


Garden of Words

by S2_501



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 31 Days Writing Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Angst, Domestic Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Harry Potter, Pre-Relationship, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:49:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 22,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22972036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S2_501/pseuds/S2_501
Summary: 31 Days of Drarry!—Ranging from pre-war HP, post-war, to Muggle AUs—A collection of ficlets using word prompts with a little bit of everything for everyone :)
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 69
Kudos: 107





	1. Conniving

**Author's Note:**

> I figured I would challenge myself this month by posting once a day. Each chapter is inspired by a word which I'll have to incorporate in. These will be quite short stories, but some chapters will be long if my characters decide to be extra. Some oneshots will follow from each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #1:** _conniving_ \- someone who is prone to scheming in a harmful way.

Draco growled as he sat down on the sofa in the common room. Pansy flickered her eyes toward him and raised a perfect eyebrow. She kicked his shin when he continued to ignore her and grumble under his breath.

“What’s the matter with you?” she asked him.

He merely continued grumbling, this time crossing his arms over his chest. She could hear him mumble sentences that were clearly mocking someone. With a sigh, realising that she wouldn’t have any answers from him, she turned back to Daphne and continued their conversation.

“I just think it’s funny that he can–”

Pansy smiled at Daphne, letting her know that their conversation would have to be postponed. There would only be one reason why Draco could get like this. There could only be one  _ person _ who Draco could be referring to.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” she asked, hopefully getting an answer to her question this time around.

Draco huffed and raised his arms in indignation. He checked that they were among trusted people and started his tirade.

“I was just walking around, making my way here when I bumped into the nuisance that is Potter. He didn’t move out of the way, which he should’ve done. It’s obvious I needed to be somewhere important – unlike him. I  _ obviously _ got angry, as you do. I may have said some choice words, but he didn’t move. Saying that the corridor was wide enough for both of us. If that was the case,  _ he _ could have moved.”

Pansy nodded, sharing looks with Daphne. Daphne was not in Draco’s line of sight, so she was free to roll her eyes.

“Anyways, I said ‘fuck you’ and you know what the little shit did? He fucking winked and told me ‘maybe later’. Pansy…  _ What the fuck _ ?”

Pansy stifled a laugh, Draco was clearly flustered and had no idea how to respond to Potter.

What Draco failed to disclose was that he spent a few seconds stuttering and turning pink while Potter walked the opposite direction.

Pansy knew that he only needed a little push to get to where he wanted— inside Potter’s  _ wherever _ — so she appealed to her Slytherin side, lighting up when an idea sparked in her mind.

“Clearly he’s just trying to unsettle you. He’s using this new technique to hassle you. Why don’t you play it at his game and see how it goes?”

Draco gaped at her before he started to grin, “Pansy, you bloody genius!” He stood up and made his way to his room. His smile turned conniving, oblivious to the two girls trying to keep their laughter in.


	2. Rutilant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #2** : _rutilant_ \- having a reddish or golden glow. cont. from prompt #1 (Also, how much more Gryffindor of a word can rutilant be?)

It was the end of the week, _finally_ , and yet, Draco still hadn’t achieved what he wanted. Needed. Semantics. He was getting impatient, which was unusual for him. He was the paragon of patience. A master in the skill. So patient, he was. As patient as–

Never mind. Scrap that thought.

His target walked into the common room at that moment. All thoughts flew out of his head at the sight of _Potter_. He bit the inside of his cheek, wondering how he could turn the tables around. It was unbecoming of a Malfoy to be reduced to stuttering. He had expected to be mocked once word got around of how he had behaved the previous week. However, it seemed that no one was aware of his failure. This unsettled him as he knew that if the roles were reversed the news would have spread by the end of the day.

He watched as everyone’s attention suddenly gravitated toward the Saviour. He leaned back into the couch he sat on. It wouldn't be easy to do what he was planning in front of many witnesses. There would be so much that could go wrong, he didn’t need further humiliation.

He waited for the common room to clear up a bit. During which the sun had set, and, together with the warm fire, a rutilant haze trailed throughout the room. There were only two other people aside from Potter sitting around. They seemed to be preoccupied, and this was probably the only time Draco could corner Potter alone.

Draco stood up and made his way across the room to where Potter claimed lordship over the lone armchair. He was fiddling with that thing he carried around with him often. Draco was unsure as to what it was, but the multi-coloured Muggle cube took most of his attention during free time.

“Ahem.”

Potter looked up and stared at Draco; his hands still twisting the different sides of the cube. Draco was unsure what the goal was, but it seemed so mundane and pointless. He supposed it didn’t require a lot of attentiveness if Potter could solve it without looking at it.

They continued to stare at each other in silence.

Draco opened his mouth, finally having an idea on what to say, only Potter beat him to it.

“Finally coming to collect on what you wanted?”

Blank. His mind went blank. All thoughts he previously had? Where did they go? Draco didn’t know. To make things worse, the prat-who-lived-to-ruin-his-life _winked_. Winked! Again!

Draco gulped, his throat suddenly dry. His mind was a mess, and before he could stop himself, he replied, “sure. Now?”

That seemed to startle Potter, whose grip on the cube loosened slightly. His jaw opened, mouth agape. Draco smirked. _Ahh, so the hassled becomes the hasslee._ He tilted his head, observing the growing flush on Potter’s cheeks. Now, _that_ there was rutilant. And what a pretty shade of red it was.

“Take your time to collect your thoughts.” _What was he saying_ ? “I’ll be in my room.” _What was he implying_? _Say it’s a joke_! _Tell him you’re only kidding_! Draco’s mind and mouth seemed to stop working in harmony. His body more so as he turned around away from Potter. Heart pounding, he rushed to his room. He quickly closed his door and stared at it. _What the fuck brain? I ban you from making those_ –

His door opened.


	3. N’est-ce pas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #3** : _n’est-ce pas_ \- French for ‘right?’/assurance.  
> Muggle AU and Harry needs a French tutor
> 
>  _Little Trivia_ : Sixth form – ages 16-18 where students take 3-4 A-Level subjects over the course of two years (Year 12 take AS subjects, Year 13 take A2 subjects). The American equivalent to Freshman year of college, in terms of content taught. MFL = Modern Foreign Language. AQA is an external exam board.

Harry stared at his phone in despair. His one true hope, Hermione, was sick and unable to make it for their revision session. He typed out a frantic message asking her how long she would be out for, only to have a message from Ron telling him to let Hermione rest. He sent **_traitors! Both of you!_ ** to the group chat. After some thought, he also added **_Get well soon though!_ **It wouldn’t be right to offend his best friends.

He held back his tears of frustration and repeatedly hit his phone against his forehead. He was counting on Hermione to give him tips as her speaking test was yesterday.

The speaking test for his end of year assessment was later in the day and he had always practised with Hermione. It felt almost sacrilegious to not have her next to him. Revising together was practically a ritual at this point. Ever since year seven where they suffered under the tutelage of Monsieur Snape together — the bane of Harry’s existence who followed them into sixth from classes. Why their school only had one French teacher was beyond Harry.

He bit his lip and searched the common room, looking for anyone who could be a worthy replacement. It was too early in the morning, so only a few people had arrived. Some were looking frantically through their notes, revising for the morning exams. Harry considered himself lucky that his speaking test would take place in the afternoon.

He thought about asking Luna since she was taking both Spanish and French, but her hair was all over the place from the frustration she felt. He found it odd that Luna was acting in such a manner, she was very gifted in languages — and everything else academic really. Then he saw her lift her textbook and noticed that it said: “ _AQA: AS Physics”_. He quickly looked away, fearing that if he caught her attention she’d use him for help. He was still traumatised from past Physics exams. No wonder she was in a tizzy.

He groaned and took his glasses off so he could rub his eyes. That was it, he was going to fail this. There went over thirty per cent of his grade. He leaned back against the comfortable sofa, contemplating why he decided to take French. It wasn’t exactly necessary for his university course. He just enjoyed learning the language. Keyword: learning. Being tested for it was a hurdle he really didn’t want to have to go through.

The room suddenly increased in volume much to the irritation of the inhabitants who enjoyed the solace. Harry supposed one of the school buses had arrived and brought with it more stressed sixth formers. He suddenly sat up, realising that it probably meant there was someone who could help him. He quickly tidied his notes away and searched through the influx of grumbling students. He wasn’t sure if he would be given help in the first place, but it was worth a shot. The person in his mind wasn’t exactly close friends with him. Hopefully, they were friendly enough with each other that helping him wouldn’t be too much of a burden.

 _There!_ Harry thought, seeing the distinguishable blond hair. He shouldered one of his backpack straps and made his way over to Draco, who was fixing his hair from the mess the strong wind outside no doubt made. He stopped a few steps away and bit his lip, wondering how he would approach this.

Draco noticed Harry’s shadow and looked up, raising an eyebrow in question. He came in early to practice for his own speaking test, and from the way Harry was staring at him, he could only guess what this was going to be about.

“Need help, Harry?” he asked.

Harry’s eyes widened, wondering if he really was that obvious.

“Yes, I’m sorry if you’re busy with other things, but I really need help with our speaking test. Hermione was supposed to come in and help me with it, but she isn’t feeling too good. Do you think you could test me on some things? I mean– only if you’re free, that is.” Harry wriggled his toes in his shoes, hiding how anxious he was. He was _desperate_ for any help.

“Of course, after all, us MFL students should stick together, n’est-ce pas?” Draco asked, eyes twinkling in humour.

Harry nodded, internally screaming. It was a stupid time to realise how much he liked Draco’s accent when speaking French. Something he continuously noticed throughout their shared French classes since year seven.

“Great, come sit. Take out your notes, let’s start out with the basics as a warm up, and lead on from that.”

Harry smiled and made his way over to the empty space next to Draco. Things were already looking up.


	4. Ostentatious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #4** : _ostentatious_ \- pretentious display; designed to impress or attract notice

The room was dark and soundproof. You couldn’t hear the shouting of excited students from the outside, nor could you hear whatever went on inside. No one but the two of them knew about this room. Especially what happened inside. They didn’t meet often, only whenever they agreed through hidden gestures. The last meeting was only two days ago, however. It seemed as if the gaps between their meetings were too long now.

“Lumos.”

A glow lit up from the wand of one Harry Potter. His expression was hidden behind the shadows of his fringe. Draco knew what he would find though. A troubled gaze disguising a triumphant gleam. Draco was used to it by now. Harry was often conflicted about what they did at the start, but once they got going, he was _master_ ful.

“Incendio.”

The candles remained where they left it previously. Four on each window sill, and three on the table in front of them. The room got considerably brighter.

Draco loosened his outer robes, revealing his casual attire of a light blue button-down and dark denim jeans. He removed the heavy robes entirely and placed it onto the stool by the door. He made his way to the table where the equipment lay. He hesitated for a second and looked at Harry who merely nodded forward. _Go_.

Gulping, Draco continued and stared at what lay before him. This was the tenth session they had together, but each time left Draco wanting more. He felt Harry’s breathing on the back of his neck before he heard him speak.

“So, what’s your plan for today?”

Draco opened the book before him and randomly stopped at one page. _Croquembouche_.

“That.”

Harry leaned over him, ignoring Draco’s stare. He knew what Draco was doing. Draco knew he knew it too, the tracing of Harry’s thumb against his hip sort of gave it away.

“My my, what an ostentatious thing to attempt. Do you believe you can do it?” His thumb found its way into Draco’s shirt, this time tracing up to his waist. Up and down. Up and down. It was maddening.

Draco’s eyes closed, he was losing focus. This was important. It _was_ important... whatever it was... “What was the question again?”

“Think you can do it?” Harry repeated, his lips grazing against Draco’s cheek, oh-so-tantalisingly. 

“I believe so, yes,” he voice strained somewhat in reply.

Harry grinned and placed a light kiss on his cheek and then stepped away. “Great, let’s get to it then!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I didn’t know where this was going. It honestly just wrote itself.


	5. Importune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #5** : _importune_ \- beg persistently.

Not everyone could claim to have a solid relationship with their ex. Usually, exes avoided each other whenever they could. No mention of their name by friends; pictures ripped in half from rage. Things like that. Harry, on the other hand, counted himself lucky. He was quite good friends with his ex. Actually most of his exes ( _two_ , but who's really counting?) were very friendly with him. Harry didn’t realise how good of a friendship it was until he saw a text from one of them.

_Harry, I’ve got a date with this girl I’ve been talking to._

Sent 12:09

_Only, her dad’s kinda strict._

Sent 12:09

_He wants to have someone with her. I’m not going alone when she_ _has_ _someone by her side that I don’t know too well. So… could you_ _M A Y B E accompany me?_

Sent 12:09

_Please_

Sent 12:10

_Please!_

Sent 12:10

_With a treacle tart on top?_

Sent 12:10

_Please!!!!_

Sent 12:10

_Please._

Sent 12:10

_PLSSSSS_

Sent 12:10

_Please, oh kind, merciful, handsome, gracious, generous,_ _wholesome, humble, and righteous man that you are!_

Sent 12:10

This was getting ridiculous. Harry unlocked his phone and called Ginny. He had no idea what was going through her mind. Why did she think this would be acceptable? What did she have up her sleeve to make him agree? Because if he knew Ginny – and boy did he know her – she wouldn’t have asked him if she didn’t have any leverage.

“HARRY!”

He moved his phone away from his ear and waited for her to stop her shouting. She was a very excitable woman, and there was nothing like a date to get her going. Another fact he knew too well.

“Yes, Ginny?” He responded, feeling brave enough to risk his eardrums.

“So as you know, I’ve been talking to this girl for a few weeks now. She’s so beautiful Harry, you have no idea. We’ve facetimed every now and again, and I finally got the courage to ask to meet her in person. HARRY. I need you to help me. Please!”

Harry sighed, and walked around his living room as he talked. He noticed a sock by his coffee table and picked it up. _That’s where it was_ , he thought, remembering the matching pair in the basket of mismatched socks. “What’s in it for me?”

“I have it on good authority that you can take advantage of this date.”

“Oh _really_?” He didn’t care how sarcastic he sounded. Everything about this sounded weird. He’s had enough of weird, ta.

“Please Harry! Her family is really protective of her, ever since– well I can’t reveal that, it’s too private… Regardless, her family is super protective of her. The only way I can take her out is if she takes her cousin with her. She’s shown me a picture of him, and honestly? I think you’d hate to miss out on this opportunity.” Ginny was incessant with her importuning.

Harry sighed, pinching his nose bridge, “Ginny I don’t know…”

“Harry. I say this as a firmly declared lesbian. That man is hot.”

He couldn’t help himself, he found himself smiling, “what if he’s straight?”

“Then I suppose you could make a new friend. _Please,_ Harry!”

“Ugh! Fine! I knew I should’ve blocked your number when I had the chance–”

“Harry! Hey!”

He quickly hung up. He was obviously joking, but Ginny sometimes never knew it. He’d rather prevent evoking her rage.

His phone pinged as he got another message.

_Hoe dare you hang up on me!_

Sent 12:30

_**How… but hoe… hahah!_

Sent 12:31

_B U T!!! You’re a lifesaver and the most perfect human being_ _out there, aside from Luna! The date is gonna be tomorrow at 6._ _You have no excuses, you’ve already agreed. We’re going to eat_ _at that new French restaurant on High Street._

Sent 12:31

Harry rolled his eyes. It was a good thing he had nothing planned tomorrow then, he supposed. He pocketed his phone and walked back into his kitchen and grabbed a glass. He was thirsty and required watering. Hold on, that made him sound like a plant. He really did need more sustenance, a light snack, perhaps. He filtered through his cabinets and found some bourbon cookies.

His phone vibrated at a notification. Goodness, was Ginny never not on her phone?

He took his phone out once more and saw that Ginny had messaged him privately on Instagram. The message was simply someone’s account, with her caption of _you’re welcome_.

Harry clicked the username (@draconis) and promptly choked on the biscuit in his mouth. He clocked the little rainbow flag in the bio and scrolled through. _Yeah_ , okay. Maybe Ginny was onto something.


	6. Cynosure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #6** : _cynosure_ \- to be the centre of attention

Wherever Draco went, he was the cynosure. He deserved it after all. A man of high standing, whilst also extremely pleasing to the eyes. It was a fact. He would absorb the compliments from men and women alike as if it was what gave him life. He thrived on their constant flattery.

It was for this reason alone why Harry hated these parties. Draco was  _ his _ . He hated how these people assumed they had the right to Draco’s attention. How they thought a simple glance their way was equivalent to Draco expressing love for them.

Though, he supposed he could forgive Draco for enjoying himself.

After all, the whole time they were at the party, Draco only had eyes for him.

Draco wandered over when he was finally free.

“You’d think they would fawn over  _ you _ more Mr Saviour of the Wizarding world.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “oh please. That’s old news. You’re the new shiny thing in this reality, Mr Healer who cures all.”

Draco laughed and leaned in for a chaste kiss. What he really wanted to do wasn’t polite for public scrutiny.

“Keep going,” he whispered against Harry’s lips, then leaned back, watching as Harry’s smile grew.

“My handsome, wonderful, ever so loving husband–” Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist and continued, “–perfect in every way. I’m so lucky to wake up next to you every morning. Your hair gleaming from the sunlight; I wonder if it's an angel I’m beside. Only, I remember the night before, and you’re definitely no angel.” 

Draco slapped his arm lightly, “stop. Not in public, you know how–”

Harry hushed him with a light kiss, “yes yes, I’m aware. Now, where was I?”

Draco leaned his chin against Harry’s shoulder and closed his eyes, inhaling Harry’s scent of sandalwood and warmth. The room faded away, and all he could hear was Harry express how much he loved him. He may enjoy having the attention of everyone, but the one who truly mattered was this man right there. In his arms.


	7. Expiate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #7** : _expiate_ \- make amends for

What does it mean to be brave? To carry on forward, despite not knowing how the end would come to be? Is it not a saying that repeating an action with no change is a mark of insanity? Does that mean that in order to be brave, one must become a lunatic?

Draco shook his head as if trying to clear his spiralling thoughts. His hands were still twitching, and it seemed as if he couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs. His throat burned from the aftermath of the Fiendfyre. He wasn’t sure if he even had eyelashes still. He gingerly licked his dry cracked lips, wincing when the taste of iron met his palate. He tilted his head back and leaned against the back of the bench. The burn in his eyes let him know that tears were on their way. He resisted brushing them away,  _ blink– just blink dammit. Don’t be obvious. They’re watching _ .

After deeming it safe to sit up straight again, his attention was directed to a blonde haired girl. She was seated on the table across. Or rather, half of a table. He purposely ignored the area where the wood was chipped. A centuries old piece of antiquity ruined from a quick blasting curse. He focused on her instead.  _ Looney _ , he registered. No,  _ Luna _ , he corrected.

He watched as she stared at the ceiling where the conjured starry night sky was still present. He was surprised it managed to remain. He looked up as well and felt his heart break further at what he saw.  _ No _ . It was all  _ wrong _ . The stars were in the wrong position, the wrong size… the sky the wrong colour. The night sky was no longer the deep indigo he used to stare at mindlessly as a youth. It was a sickly green. 

He decided he’d rather watch Luna. He returned his attention to her and noticed her smiling at nothing in particular. The smile caused the dry blood on her cheeks to crack and fall off. She noticed it, and absentmindedly wiped it off; never looking away from the ceiling. To her side was the girl-Weasel…  _ Ginerva? Ginny? _ . Her head was tucked into Luna’s shoulder and her eyes were closed. But he could see the tear tracks stark against the dust dirtying her cheeks. Perhaps Luna was humming a comforting tune to ease Ginny’s pain. Her hand rose and patted the dull ginger hair of her companion.

He tilted his head, observing her silently. Luna seemed content despite how dismal her surroundings were. He supposed she had every right to be happy. The war was finally over, and she  _ was _ technically on the winning side. 

There was a tug on his left sleeve, and when he turned to them, he realised that it was his mother. She had been observing him quietly, and her eyes were questioning. She didn’t like the way his thoughts seemed to be heading towards. The shadows growing across his face were a cause for her worry. He blinked at his mother, wondering if she was going to talk. After all, she was shaking like a leaf in autumn not even twenty minutes ago.

“Mon chéri–” she paused, and returned to silence.

Draco hissed, feeling self-conscious. He hated the nickname growing up. Whenever friends of his visited the manor, they would hear mother call him her precious and he’d cringe. He’d suffer through weeks of teasing from Greg and Vince in their common room before a new shiny thing dragged their attention away.

_ Vince _ . His heart gave another lurch and he resisted the need to bawl in public. Things weren’t going to be the same anymore. His thoughts turned to Greg. Where was he? He made a move to stand and search for him, but mother gripped his hand tightly. He returned his stare to his mother and blinked at her. 

_ She didn’t want him to leave _ .

He relaxed into his seat and tightened his own grip on her hand. He squeezed it twice to reassure her that he’d stay. He remembered with dread that this could possibly be the last few moments he’d have together with his mother. In a few minutes, arrests would be made. She probably feared their impending separation. What was to be his fate? Azkaban? Death on sight? Would he be given the mercy of house arrest?

He took notice of the absence of his father. At this point, Draco couldn’t care less about where Lucius went. May he rot wherever he was, ruining not only his life but mother’s too.

Clapping broke the silence in the Great Hall. Draco flinched at the loud noise, and how it disrupted the peace. His mother’s grip tightened once more, alerting him to know something had further frightened her. He looked up and there he saw the Golden Trio. Only, they didn’t look so golden. They looked tarnished and dull from the ash and dust marring their face and clothes.

He could feel himself bending his back inward as if to hide from their attention. Ginny broke free from Luna and ran to her brother, pulling into a tight embrace. Granger– Hermione brought her hand up and rubbed it against Ginny’s back. Her silent form of comfort.

Potter– never Harry, he didn’t deserve the right– seemed to be looking for someone. Draco had a feeling who it could be if the itching behind his neck was any indication. He waited as the room broke out into cheers and watched as the four by the door smiled wanly. It was a victory, true, but at what cost? How many were lost this day? How many could have been saved?

Once the cheers died down, the trio walked to the centre of the room and Potter cast a Sonorous charm. With his wand pointed at his neck, he began to talk.

“It has been done, we have won. Voldemort has been defeated. He is no more.” He paused for the cheers at started anew. “It is a new time ahead of us. We must remember to be better than those before us. To denounce the prejudice that led to such acts of violence. We know better now.  _ We _ will be better.” He nodded once more and cancelled the spell.

Crowds of thankful students and teachers rushed to Potter’s side. They sang praises to his name and basked themselves in their saviour. They cried and pulled him into hugs. Draco watched as Potter’s face grew in uneasiness. He wasn’t the only one to have noticed, as Weasel– Ron would never be a name he’d utter– pushed his way through and told them to give Potter a moment for privacy.

He watched as Potter backed away and left the Great Hall once more. He did what he had to do, announce the end, so now he was free to do what he wanted. There was just one thing Draco felt he had to do. Before he lost the chance.

He made to stand once more, expecting his mother to protest. Only, she stood with him. He stared into her eyes, so alike to his own clear grey eyes. He knew his eyes were probably bloodshot, but by some miracle, mother’s remained clear. He merely nodded, and, with their hands clasped, walked out of the room to find where Potter wandered to.

It wasn’t a long distance. Potter hadn’t walked far. He was sat on one of the stairs just by the Great Hall. His head was hidden in his hands, fingers tightly pulling at his messy hair. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridor alerting him of their presence.

When he noticed them, he immediately stood up. He lost his balance slightly and wavered back before grabbing a bannister. He straightened himself and fixed his glasses. Draco tried to keep his laughter in. Potter fumbling about like a new foal always amused him.

“Mr Potter,” his mother began, “thank you.”

Potter started and gaped for a few seconds, “uhh– Mrs Malfoy, you’re welcome.”

Draco turned between his mother and Potter, what could have possibly happened between them for his mother to have to  _ personally _ thank Potter?

“I too… wish to thank you. Your actions really helped in the long haul.” Potter’s gratitude confused Draco further. What had exactly happened in the forest?

His mother smiled demurely, “I seem to recall only asking about the welfare of my son. There is nothing for you to thank me for.”

Potter nodded and stared past Draco’s shoulder. Draco turned around and noticed the other two observing him and his mother. Hermione’s wand was in her hand, and her feet were poised in position to charge if she needed to. Draco tried to gulp but frowned when he found that his throat was still dry. It hurt even more.

His mother elbowed Draco, bringing him back to their presence. She stared at him pointedly, but he didn’t understand what she was trying to say. She was always hard to read, and now that she was encouraging him to understand her cues, he was lost.

She reached out to grasp Potter’s wrist. He didn’t seem to expect her to touch him, yet he didn’t flinch. He merely stared at her hand.

“I wish to apologise for our actions. I have no doubt that trouble is in the future for my son and me, but if there is ever a time to expiate, it would be now.” Mother bowed her head slightly, and rose it again, “as you said in the Great Hall, change is necessary now. I would like to be the first to assist however I can.” She let go of his wrist.

Draco was shocked. His mother was a proud woman who bowed down to no one. He recalled the whispered distaste she had when Voldemort stayed at them. Of course, she never said it in his presence. She was intelligent enough and valued her’s and Draco’s life. But still. To see her admit how wrong she was, to someone his age… it was bizarre but humbling.

He knew it was his turn. He tried to recall all the hatred he had for the boy– no, man, in front of him. It seemed so worthless now that he faced death and screamed at it. Such a petty rivalry that started from a stupid action. Looking back, he wasn’t sure how it started, but he wanted it over. Much like mother did.

He stared into Potter’s eyes. They looked weary and exhausted. He guessed it was to be expected. This was a war hero standing before him.

“I too wish to apologise,” he rasped. His throat stinging. It felt like he was swallowing shards of glass. He coughed to clear his throat, “most of my actions were a result of childhood ignorance, others just sheer chickenshit oof–” his mother elbowed him “–stupid bigotry. Please accept my apology. I understand if you don’t forgive me. It’s not like I deserve it after everything I’ve done. But I would like to atone for my digressions.”

Potter blinked at him in surprise. Draco agreed with him, it would be the first and hopefully  _ only _ time he’d apologise to Potter. He didn’t know if he could handle this humiliation another time. But with the way the world was headed, it seemed smart to ask for forgiveness.

Finally, Potter replied, “if you’re truly sincere, I’d appreciate your help in breaking down ill-conceived notions.”

He stretched out and opened his hand. Draco had a sudden flashback to when they were bright-eyed, eleven, and excited.  _ This _ , this is where it started. Draco almost felt like sneering, but he realised how foolish such an action would be.

He reached out and grasped Potter’s hand. His hand was rough and dry. Perhaps he could start his atonement by offering him some recommendations for hand cream. The thought brought a light smile to his face. Potter noticed and mimicked him with a slowly growing grin. Draco’s smile grew as well.

The world truly was anew if Potter was smiling at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> l think I'll expand on this prompt and make it a fic. There's potential to make this one grow... hmm... Anyways, thanks so much to those who have subscribed and given kudos to this story! I truly appreciate each and every one of you!!


	8. Dissimulate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #8** : _dissimulate_ \- hide under a false appearance.

As a Malfoy, it was bred into Draco since childhood to dissimulate. He was a blank façade; impenetrable from outsiders. He would say one thing but think another. No one would be the wiser.

Of course, that was before he started Hogwarts. He had been told of the wonders of the school. How much pride his house had, _has_. He was told that they were the cream of the crop. Above all the others.

So why, _why_ , did he feel so little whenever he was confronted by the most well-known Half-blood? _Potter_ , his mind sneered. How much more common could his last name be? It suggested a lineage of labourers. They were only popular through new money and luck.

He reflected on earlier that day. They had their usual confrontation between classes in the corridor. For once, they were alone.

Potter said something about the World Cup the previous summer. He made it seem like Draco was ignorant, unaware of the things going on around them. Like he was nothing more than a spoiled figurehead for the Malfoy name.

The very idea boiled his blood. He was more than that. He was his own person, whilst also a Malfoy. In anger he countered Potter.

“I’m not as ignorant as you assume! I’m well aware that the world is going to turn to shit. I see it every day at my home! Do you think you have it bad as an outsider? Think how someone on the inside feels?”

Draco’s eyes widened from shock. He covered his mouth as if to prevent more words from rushing out. But it was too late. He ran away. He was sick of that. Always running away. Why was it that Potter brought out the worst from him?

Draco feared that what he said would get back to father. Father wasn’t the most forgiving of men. Much less so to his own child. A child that should be perfect no matter what.

He held onto his wrist; lost in his memories. He could still feel the phantom hand gripping it tightly enough to bruise. It took forever for the bruises to fade. He had such pale skin, you see.

Draco was such a good actor. But it only took one minute with Potter for it to collapse. _Merlin_ , he prayed.


	9. Sobriquet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #9** : _Sobriquet_ -a familiar name for a person

Two men lay side by side on their bed one early morning. The only sound came from birds chirping their song outside by the trees. One man leaned on his elbow slightly so they were higher than the other. He looked down at the other man and lovingly traced his cheek. They smiled at each other, content in the bliss that was their life.

“How come you don’t have a sobriquet for me?” Harry suddenly asked, his voice quiet, so as to not disturb the peace settling around them. 

Draco stared up at Harry, eyebrows raised, “pray tell, how did you come across that word?”

Harry grinned, “one of those word of the day things Hermione has on her desk. Now, answer my question.”

Draco leaned up and gave an affectionate peck to his forehead. He resettled onto his pillow, this time folding his arm up so he could lean on his bicep. His hand raised, tracing along Harry’s hairline, down to his jaw.

“I thought you knew by now. Potter is a perfectly suitable pet name for you. There’s only one Potter, and he’s here with me. _You’re mine_. Why would I give you a nickname when your name is worth more than those saccharine nothings?”

“You’re an utter sap in the mornings,” Harry grinned, eyes glimmering in joy.

“You’re the only witness, and therefore I can deny it to whoever you tell.”

“I won’t tell anyone anything, this is purely _mine_ ,” Harry nuzzled into Draco’s neck, inhaling his familiar scent that he could only describe as _home_.

Laughter echoed around the house. Kreacher who was preparing breakfast merely rolled his eyes and cast a stasis spell on the food.

“Masters would be taking a while, I say,” he muttered, heading back to his hidey-hole.


	10. Serendipity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt** : _Serendipity_ \- occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way
> 
>  _Trivia_ : City mentioned is Birmingham. In this city, there are colloquial terms such as bab used as a term of endearment. It’s not a typo. I moved to Birmingham around 2001 so I’m going by memory for some of these facts – could be wrong for some of them, sorry ^^;

Draco stared at the man resting peacefully by his side. Everywhere they touched was warm to him. He leaned his head against Harry’s shoulder and sighed happily. Harry looked up from the letter he was reading and stared at Draco. They stared at each other lovingly for a minute.

“What?” He asked, once Harry said nothing.

Harry shook his head, smiling and turning back to his letter, “nothing, love.”

Draco hummed and closed his eyes. He grabbed his wand and used a spell to turn their radio on. Soft jazz came through the speakers and he felt himself return to that day. That one day that started all this… this… his mind wandered for the perfect word. This… serendipity. Yes, that was what he could call this… _them_. Serendipity.

Harry was the same. This little world of theirs was bliss. Pure unadulterated bliss. He lifted his arm closest to Draco and wrapped it around him, pulling him closer to his side.

After the war, Harry found himself finding peace in the Muggle world. He disliked the bright colours wizardkind often wore. After getting used to the dark dull days, bright colours hurt his eyes. Many wizards enjoyed patterns and some of them made even Draco baulk at the sheer eyesore.

The wizarding world was not a sympathetic place for either of them. Draco suffered sneers and Harry bore through objections to his actions. _Why were you a death eater Malfoy?_ _Why didn’t you save my brother, so-called saviour of the world, Harry Potter? Why did you live, when they didn’t?_

Draco rejected the idea of acting like the proper pureblood whilst Harry disregarded everyone who wanted him to be the figurehead of a new improved Wizarding world. For both of them, the Muggle world offered solace. It was funnily enough where they reconnected.

It went like this.

Harry had taken to wandering through the hidden streets of England. Every weekend, he would spend a few hours travelling to a new city. For someone proud to be British, all he knew was Surrey, a little bit of Devon, and Hogsmeade. The latter being entirely magical, and Devon partially due to the Burrow being there. No need to mention why Surrey was even considered.

This weekend found him wandering around the city of Birmingham. He bypassed the Woolworths and the Argos store. Meandering through the crowds of busy shoppers. He ironically didn’t mind being in crowds, as long as he blended in; anonymous. He stood at the ramp leading into the shopping centre and followed one direction of the two-way traffic.

He stopped outside a Firkins bakery and stepped inside. The smell of freshly baked pork pies drawing him closer to the display. It was after the lunch rush, but a new batch had been freshly made. He leaned down and looked at what was available.

“What can I interest you for?” The lady opposite asked him.

He looked between the rows and pointed at the chicken bake pastie, “I’ll have two of those please.” He turned to the refrigerated area and picked up a bottle of water as well, “this as well.”

The lady smiled as she took the bottle from him and scanned it, “right, that’ll be £1.30, bab.”

He paid and took the food from her then left the shop. It was a shame there wasn’t a place inside to eat, but that was okay. He continued on his path of exploration. He ventured past the library and found himself walking down another ramp. Birmingham surely had a lot of them.

He sat by one of the flowerbeds and took out one of the pasties. Most of the outer crust crumbled off before Harry could take his first bite. He hoped the other one had more left. He really liked the crunchy outer layer that the others lacked.

He heard a street performer play the saxophone to his left. The jazz music, along with the busy steps of businessmen and women walking past him created a picturesque environment. He enjoyed how he was being ignored. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the performance. He made a note to remember to give the performer a few of his leftover notes before he left.

Harry finished his remaining water and pastie. He pushed off the little crumbs in a futile attempt of cleaning the flakes off. He stupidly wore a wool jumper and the more he shoved, the smaller the flakes got; the more they burrowed into the gaps.

He was so focused on cleaning himself, that he didn’t notice where he was going and ultimately bumped into someone. He apologised to the person, keeping his eyes on the ground, not wanting to look into their eyes. He hated confronting strangers, and from the looks of their shoes, they seemed like a busy important person who would probably throw him to court. Or something. Harry didn’t know. Laws intimidated him.

“Potter?”

Harry looked up at the familiar sneering voice, only this time it was more questioning than filled with vitriol. Malfoy? What was he doing in Birmingham, of all cities?

“I work here. What made you wander over to this side of the fence?”

Harry must have spoken aloud, “oh, just a bit of exploring.”

He had no idea why he was even entertaining Malfoy. He should have walked away, and ignored him. But the sight of Malfoy dressed in Muggle attire seemed to fry his brain and render him incompetent.

“Have you visited most of the sites?”

Harry blinked, were they actually acting civil?

“Oh, come on Potter. The war is behind us now. Let’s move ahead from it, shall we?”

Harry found himself nodding, “I haven’t been around much. Just focusing on the city centre.”

Malfoy laughed, “sorry, it’s just that I find it bizarre that you call it that. Locals refer to it as town. How long are you here for?”

Harry checked his watch, “uhh, maybe for the rest of the day. Why?”

“Oh, in that case, please let me take you on a tour. Have you thought about visiting the Black Country Museum? It really helped me understand how Muggles established themselves. Muggles walk around in their old attire and tell stories of the old times. It’s closeby, just in Dudley in fact.”

Harry startled at the name, “Dudley?”

“You’ve heard of it? Oh, forgive me. You grew up in the Muggle world. You probably have.”

Harry shook his head, “no, no. I knew a person called Dudley. You’re telling me it’s a place?”

Malfoy nodded, smiling in light excitement, “yes! It’s not a very affluent area, mind you, so I don’t know much to show you. Maybe afterwards we can return and I can show you the art gallery? It’s free of charge, you know?”

Harry blinked at the excited man before him. A Malfoy showing him the hows and whys of the Muggle world? He was curious to know more. “Alright, sure.”

They walked down the steps, walking past the performer when Harry remembered what he wanted to do. He jogged back to them and placed two £10 notes into the case by their feet.

“Cheers, bruv,” the man muttered. He was currently on break taking a sip of water. Harry smiled at the man and walked back to Malfoy.

“Oh, if you love performers, there’s plenty at Temple street.”

Harry followed along, listening as Malfoy told him more about Birmingham.

The rest, as they say, is history.


	11. Hiraeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #11** : _Hiraeth_ \- Welsh concept for longing for home or homesickness for a home that never was.

Harry’s steps slowed as he neared the derelict building. He could feel the humming of the stasis charm keeping it steady. Some powerful magic must have been done in order to preserve it. He closed his eyes and paused mid-stride. It seemed like he couldn’t go on any longer. Each footstep felt heavier than the last.

The wind swirled around him and took with it the dry leaves on the pavement. The sound of rustling along with owls hooting made him feel melancholy in a way. This was the street that was meant to be his home. A home that never was.  _ Hiraeth _ , his mind registered. He had taken a few classes in Welsh when he found out that his mother’s maternal side had some Welsh heritage. Hiraeth was a word that he liked the concept of and he never felt it more so than that second.

It was a hidden village in Gloucester. He had no idea why he had waited for years to visit. It was so close to his house in London, by mode of apparition, at least, so he knew he had no excuses. He wanted to walk where his parents walked, touch what his parents touched. Hogwarts was different. It wasn’t truly his family’s. Not like this home in Godric’s Hollow.

He took a deep breath and continued on with the walk.

Fifty steps.

Twenty steps.

Ten more.

His foot bumped against the wooden fence. Little weeds peeked from where the tarmac cracked. It was frosted over with the cold, and when he stepped on it lightly, it crumbled like ash.

He reached out and touched the gate with a trembling finger.  _ Was he ready for this? _ He pushed it open slightly and took a step forward. He could feel the wards scanning his magical signature before it let him through. It seemed that the wards recognised him enough to let him enter.

Walking in, Harry could feel something. A sense of peace. From both him and the house. The house seemed to sing and sigh the closer he got. He knew from experience that some houses tended to improve when someone of blood who was keyed into the wards visited.

When Malfoy dropped by to visit Grimmauld Place, the house practically cleaned itself. Malfoy wanted to leave his manor in Wiltshire behind, and Harry was all too happy to give him some space in the home. They had become somewhat good friends over the years. Over time, the house became a home fit for Malfoy. The change from not seeing each other often, to seeing each other for every second of the day was weird at the start. They got used to it, however.

It was only with Malfoy’s suggestion that Harry thought about visiting Godric’s Hollow.

_ ‘Why not visit your family home? Maybe what happened once I stepped through the wards would happen too. Just a thought.’ _

It was said during a brief pause in one fo their many conversations, but it reverbed throughout Harry’s mind constantly. What if indeed.

So, there Harry was. Five more steps away from his – and wasn’t that weird to think?  _ His _ ?– front door. Harry hadn’t had a home to truly call his own. He wasn’t even sure if he could ever see this place to be home.

He held the tarnished gold door handle and twisted it. As it was a wizarding home, the locks weren’t necessary. It opened with a groan and Harry blinked at what he saw.

A mess.

The yellowing wallpaper in the hallway was peeling. A glass table that was by the door lay shattered by his feet. The carpet covering the stairs to the left were peeling at the corners. The lights were void of lightbulbs. Dust settled over everything.

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed. He opened them again and walked further into the house. He covered his nose to protect it from the strong stale smell. He noticed a dark brown stain on the cream carpet in the living room. He did not want to think about what that brown meant. His heart throbbed heavily once it registered that it was his father’s. Now that he acknowledged it, his brain decided to focus on that one fact. His thoughts swirled around. A woman’s voice. _Harry! No!_ _Crash!_ The world was circling around him, quickly fading to black. The last thing he felt was the wall against his back as he slid down.

**_Ping!_ **

Harry woke up and gasped for breath, trying his best to get his breathing under control. He had no idea how long he had closed his eyes for. 

**_Ping!_ **

That was coming from his pocket. He realised it was his phone and that he had been receiving multiple texts. He unlocked his phone and his heart stopped racing. He found that he had the ability to smile slightly when he read the messages from an increasingly worried Draco.

Draco had joined him but offered to stay in the pub down the road so Harry could have this moment alone. He gave Harry an allowance of two hours alone before he would rush in unless Harry texted him things were fine. Harry apparently hadn’t texted him in the time frame allocated so Draco took to spamming him.

_ Harry! _

_ Harry! Is everything alright there? _

_ It’s been two hours already, and I’ve heard nothing. _

_ Did the housing collapse on you? Am I messaging an unconscious person? _

_ I’m coming there in fifteen minutes if you don’t reply. _

_ I don’t know how to check for concussions, and I suck at healing spells. _

_ Please be okay. _

_ Potter? You there? _

Harry smiled and tapped Draco’s name. He lifted the phone to his ear and called Draco. It clicked after two rings. Draco could be many things, but worrier was something he had down to a T.

“Hello? Potter?”

Harry wheezed out a breath, “I’m okay. But… I don’t think I can walk back alone. My legs seem to have stopped cooperating.”

Draco grumbled on the other side of the line, “okay. I hate that this idea was from my stupid suggestion. I knew it would suck. I’m on my way.”

Harry nodded, despite knowing Draco couldn’t see it, “yeah. Please.”

Draco sighed, “I’m like a few seconds away.”

Harry could hear him huffing as his steps increased in stride. He smiled at the thought of Draco running. For him, of all people.

“I can see the house,” he gasped for more air, “ten seconds tops!”

He kept the line open until he heard Draco tell him he was outside the house.

“The wards are keeping me out, you’re gonna have to try your best to– oh never mind, I’ve been allowed entrance. Wow… okay.” Draco stepped carefully into the house, not wanting to disturb such a sacred place.

He paused by the door and ended the call when he found Harry. He tutted when he realised Harry hadn’t made it far into the home before he had an episode.

“Oh Harry, let’s take you home, yes?”

Harry blinked at Draco, “home. Yeah. Let’s go.”


	12. Whiplash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #12** : _Whiplash_ \- slang when something changes very suddenly and unexpectedly

Mark nodded to his coworker Mikey in the break room. He waited patiently as he clocked into his shift. He’d been working at the restaurant for a few months and so far had no complaints. His coworkers were nice, and the patrons were polite and obviously the upper class. Even better, they tipped well which was why he remained there.

He walked out and passed another coworker, Samantha. She beckoned him to follow her by the welcome area and pointed at an occupied table in her section.

“I’m just about to clock out, but I want to warn you about table seven. It seems quite tense there so tread carefully. I’m not sure if it's a business meeting or something.”

Mark looked over and saw a table of six people, two women and four men. Even from his distance, he could feel the foreboding. He could only imagine how bad it was for the ones sitting at the table. He thanked Samantha and walked over. It was drilled into the employees to inform the customers of a change in server. On his way, he noticed one of the men reach up to loosen the collar of his dress shirt. 

Mark greeted them, “good evening, I’m taking over my fellow server. My name is Mark. Are you ready to order your drinks or would you like more time?”

The man who fiddled with his collar nodded in gratitude, “yes. I want something free from alcohol, perhaps. I’ll have the daiquiri mocktail, please.” He turned to the man whose dark hair was slowly growing frizzier by the second, “darling, how about you?” 

Mark wrote down the order and noticed one of the other men, the ginger-haired one, choke on his saliva. Oh, this wasn’t a business meeting. This was a couple announcing their coupledom. Mark turned to the blond’s ‘darling’.

The dark-haired man blinked at Mark. He wore glasses which hid how he was truly feeling – internally screaming, regretting everything, wanting to escape to the loo – and glanced at the menu, “I’ll have whiskey on the rocks. And keep it coming, if you please.” He gestured to the blond-haired man beside him, grasping his shoulder fondly, “he’s designated… err, driver tonight.”

Mark blinked and nodded. He wasn’t one to judge. If he was in the same position, he too would like to be inebriated for the whole meal. The four other people on the table quickly told him their orders. He was grateful to leave the stifling atmosphere and walked to the bar.

Mikey was back from break and wiping down the counter. He took the paper Mark held out for him and set to make the drinks.

“What’s the situation?”

Mark looked back at the table, they still weren’t talking to each other. “I’m not exactly sure, but the blond and the curly-haired man appear to be dating. They seem to have decided to come out to the other four during this meal.”

Mikey whistled and then pinched his lips together as if he had sucked the lemons in the bowl before him, “well that’s shite. I hope they don’t fight. God knows I’d hate to get in between them if they act homophobic.”

Mark nodded, “right?” He stayed until Mikey finished the drinks, and walked back to the table. He counted the seconds down, mentally preparing for entering the bubble of suffocation. “Here are your orders. Now, may I take your appetiser orders, or would you like–”

This time the lady with a black pixie-cut interrupted him, “I think we have decided our food orders. I’ll have the Saumon Fumé, please.”

Mark noted down her order and went around the table, maintaining eye contact with each person when it was their turn.

\-----

Throughout his whole shift, he would walk as close to the table as possible. He often asked them if they were satisfied, or if he could refill their drinks. Curly-haired guy had already had three refills of whiskey on his second round.

From what he could grasp from the conversation, Draco – blondie – and Harry – curly – were dating for two months and hadn’t told their friends, until that day. Ron – ginger – was very vocal and visually upset by this news. Mark winced when he heard how Harry used to date Ron’s sister and was now dating the ‘Ferret’ which he assumed was Draco. The nickname was obviously lacking in love as it caused Draco to almost climb over the table, but Pansy – pixie-cut – restrained him. The other two, Hermione and Blaise, were taking in the situation calmly. Hermione actually confessed how she thought they had chemistry during their years in school, and that she should have seen it coming. Blaise surprised the table by agreeing with her and saying how the school had placed bets on this relationship coming to fruition. 

He went over to bring their deserts over. He had just placed the final gateau on the table when Ron sighed.

“Mate, this is so weird. It’s like whiplash– that’s the right word right, Herms? Yeah. That. I feel so blindsided. I didn’t even know you were talking to Malfoy…”

Harry nodded blankly and turned to Draco. His drunk smile grew when they locked eyes. Mark felt the need to check his molars for cavities. The love practically glowed between the two of them. It was so sickly sweet.

“I don’t know, for me, this felt inevitable.”

Draco and Harry linked hands and Harry leaned his head onto Draco’s shoulder. Mark walked off. It seemed as if things weren’t going to escalate if Ron’s sigh of acceptance meant anything. The tension earlier had crumbled and he could feel the group’s slow acceptance of the couple. He caught Mikey’s eye and gave him a thumbs up. _Crisis averted._


	13. Gauche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #13** : _Gauche_ \- lacking social polish. cont. from prompt #12

Ron is having a good day. He’s finished his assignments early _enough_ , so it’s acceptable to reward himself with some wonderful chocolate cupcakes. Plural. He’s had four so far, and the end is not in sight. The icing on this one is just right in terms of texture and taste; not too sweet and not too soft. That little layer of crust added to the sensations. And once he gets into the cake itself, _oh Merlin help me_. _It has chocolate chips too!_ He groans into the deliciousness and closes his eyes. This. This is bliss.

“Oi Weasel, how much more gauche can you be?”

Like glass shattering upon impact, his joy came to an end.

Ron opened his eyes and there Malfoy was, leaning against the table. He supposes Malfoy thought the pose as artful. If anything, he looks silly. The glint in his eye shows Ron that he is merely teasing. At least, he better be.

“Watch it Ferret, you’re dating my best friend. You’ve gotta be nice to me.”

Malfoy rolls his eyes and lifts his wand, spelling the table clear of Ron’s crumbs. Ron sniffs, he could have done it himself. How dare Malfoy to assume he couldn’t.

Malfoy takes a seat at the newly cleaned area and looks around the mess hall. Plenty of the ministry employees are on their lunch break with them. He appears to not appreciate this as he casts the all-time favourite Muffliato.

He turns to Ron, mouth opening to say something. But for once, it seems words have escaped him.

“Spit it out, Ferret. I haven’t got all day.”

Malfoy nods to himself, whatever he needs to say seems to take all his energy. He deflates a little and slouches, alerting Ron. Malfoy never slouches, leans against, but never slouches.

“How long have Harry and I been together?”

Ron’s face sours. Every time he’s reminded of that fact, he laments on what could have been instead. Harry as part of the Weasleys, Harry free from Malfoy’s clutches.

“I’d say four, five years? Give or take?”

Malfoy nods, humming to himself.

“Why do you ask? Surely you’ve got it recorded, in that huge head of yours, down to the second?”

Malfoy nods again. He seems very troubled. Ron feels weird. Does… does Malfoy want to end things? All those years wasted? Why is he telling Ron? Is he too cowardly to say it to Harry's face?

“I can see the direction your thoughts are heading toward. Cease that at once. Harry’s the best thing that’s happened to me. If anything, he should be the one looking elsewhere. Nothing he can do wrong will ever push me away. Know that.”

Ron stares, perplexed. What is Malfoy’s problem then?

Malfoy fiddles with one of his cufflinks. Ron snorts inwardly. It’s such a poncy thing to have customised cufflinks. He knows only two people who have them, Malfoy and, funnily enough, Malfoy senior.

“Tradition in my family states that after four years of courtship, the next step is to be made,” Malfoy blurts.

Ron who took that time to take another bite chokes on the cake. _He can’t be suggesting–_ Ron looks at Malfoy’s pink face– _he is!!_

“So, what’s stopping you?”

Malfoy looks up from his fiddling. “You mean… I can? I have your blessing?”

Ron coughs, uncomfortable all of a sudden, “despite what you may assume… you’ve made Harry the happiest I’ve ever seen him. I thought he was happy with Ginny, but that was merely puppy love. What he has with you– I can’t believe I’m saying it– what you have together? That’s true love that is. You don’t get that in every lifetime.”

“I– Weasel… Ron… thank– thank–”

“Goodness me. Have I made _the_ Draco Malfoy speechless?”

Malfoy shakes his head, smiling lightly, “thank you.” He says again.

Ron nods in reply, “I would like another cupcake in exchange for giving you tips.”

“Tips?”

“I’ve seen Harry as drunk as a pirate. He’s given me secrets to things you’ll wish you knew. For example, public proposals aren’t the way to go.”

“You’re a bad friend to Harry if you give things away as easily as this,” yet, he stands up and heads for the bakery section.

Ron smiles to himself. He could use this to his advantage. Draco walks back and hands him a red velvet cake that’s been iced copiously. Oh, look at that. His good day is back on track.


	14. Circumlocution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #14** : _Circumlocution_ \- an indirect way of expressing something aka euphemisms

Draco isn’t what you would call… straightforward. Heck, he isn’t even straight to begin with. He likes to use pretty words, long words. He likes to make people second guess his motive and think about what he’s said. He enjoys winning arguments through sheer wit. The kind that will leave the other person in awe of him. He enjoys watching their face lose passion, as he reasons why he is the one in the right.

What Draco  _ does _ hate is public displays of affection. He hates couples ruining the flow of traffic because they’re blocking the path. It’s just one hour, your sweetheart will still be there by the end of class. He’s been so vocal about his hatred of it, that just one cough from him dissuaded any amorous couple from continuing.

Another thing Draco is is prideful. So much so, that now that he’s in a relationship himself, he resists the urge to kiss his beloved wherever and whenever. He would hate for the school population to associate him with hypocrisy. So he goes by another method.

Harry is a smart boy, something Draco adores him for. He’s quick on the go and learns the little signals Draco makes. A tap on the inner wrist means  _ find me in the third alcove _ , a nod means  _ two minutes, our room _ . Sometimes they change, but Harry gets it. Sometimes Draco says something totally unrelated, but it never fails to get Harry rushing to him. One time he did something as simple as raise his eyebrows and whisper,  _ are you up _ ? Which was enough to get Harry to pull him out of the common room and into theirs.

Draco gets by with circumlocution. Though, it isn’t enough anymore. Instead of staring with hatred at the couple holding hands before him, he finds himself wishing he was free to do the same. Walking side by side doesn’t have the same feeling as walking side by side with their hands linked between them.

He recalls his and Harry’s wandering one late evening. Without his consent, his own hand moves and reaches across the gap between them. His fingers slightly graze against Harry’s before he realises it. He forces his had back to his side and continues with their walk. Harry notices,  _ he always notices _ , checks they’re alone and takes the leap by grabbing his hand. He swings their clasped hands together and smiles when Draco looks at him questioningly.

“I do detest public displays of affection, Harry. You should know that by now.”

Harry pauses mid-stride and walks towards Draco. Draco takes a step back, but Harry keeps following him. Draco doesn’t like the gleam in his eye. It’s too promising. The wall hits Draco’s back, and before he knows it, he’s got an armful of Harry. Harry’s tucked his face between Draco’s neck and shoulder and is placing gentle kisses against it.

“No one’s here, so it should be fine right?” 

Draco wishes he could say he fought against the very idea. However, Harry knew all the right places to kiss. His eyes close and he holds in a moan. His hand rising to the back of Harry’s head to pull against his hair. Harry straightens and smirks when he sees Draco’s wanton expression.

“Just this once.”

He allows Harry to press into him again, kissing him for minutes. They don’t make it back to the common room for a long while.

Draco blinks back into the present and stares longingly at Harry who’s a few paces in front. He knows Harry can tell he’s staring from the way his shoulders roll. Harry turns around and sees Draco watching him. He holds out his hand to Draco and waits. Draco hesitates. They weren’t exactly secretive about their relationship. But this felt monumental. He takes the steps to meet Harry and holds Harry’s hand.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Harry whispers, his lips brushing against Draco’s ears.

Draco rolls his eyes, smiling, “oh do hush.”


	15. Timorous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #15** : _Timorous_ \- shy and fearful by nature.
> 
> Finally gonna get some heartwarming Sirius and Harry bonding 🥺

Sirius brings his teacup close and takes a sip. He inhales the calming scent of Earl Gray and sighs. He leans back against the soft couch and looks out the window. It’s another gloomy day in Islington, not as if he was expecting any different. The house is pleasantly quiet for once. The Order left a few hours ago, leaving Sirius and Harry alone to themselves. Initially, Sirius was pleased to have people in his home, he loves being a host. However, it can also become overbearing over time. He’s glad to have a moment to himself.

He wonders where Harry’s run off to and hopes he hasn’t somehow managed to curse himself on something in the home. Merlin knew he needs a good spring cleaning throughout his childhood home. Sirius startles when he hears a knock against the door. He should remember he’s not back in Azkaban, it’s been months now. Because of the unexpected noises making him flinch, he told Harry that knocking wouldn’t be necessary whilst in this house. He then remembers what Harry had to grow up with and frowns. The timorous trait in the Gryffindor is unexpected, and only comes out when he’s alone with someone he trusts. Someone who doesn’t expect him to be the rash Gryffindor, courageous and virtuous yadda yadda.

“Come in!” Sirius calls, putting his teacup down on the table before him.

Harry enters and stays by the door, hesitating slightly. He’s wringing his hands together in front of him, an unusual – for him – display of insecurity. Sirius wonders what it is that’s running through Harry’s head at the moment.

“What’s wrong?”

Harry looks up, eyes wide and bright. It reminds him of James whenever Sirius had called him out on something. Deer-like as usual.  _ Would Harry’s Animagus be a deer? _ Sirius wonders.

“Nothing. Nothin’s wrong. Why would something be wrong?”

Sirius snorts, “because Prongslet, you look nervous. What’s up?”

Harry blinks at him and sighs. He walks closer to the seating area and takes a seat on the couch opposite Sirius. “It’s not much, but I was just wondering something…” he trails off, much to Sirius’ exasperation.

“Yes?” Maybe he should refill his mug, this seems like a heavy conversation. It’s awfully British of him, but tea would be nice; it’d calm both of them down.

Harry shuffles on his seat, wiggles his shoes off and pulls his legs up. He wraps his arms around his knees and looks out the same window as Sirius did earlier. “How do you know you’re in love with someone?”

Sirius hums in response. He needs a moment to think about this. “I mean, there’s the obvious. A feeling of adrenaline coursing through your body. Your heart rate increases and you feel warm whenever you’re around them.” Harry’s nodding along with this. “That’s not all though. Sometimes, just their presence eases you. Calms you down. It’s not always passionate. When you’re with them, it feels as if the world has become right again. Things make more sense. You feel at peace.”

Merlin does that take Sirius back. He remembers his past loves and one sticks out like a ruby in the dirt. Bright, compelling, symbolising the passion at the time. It’s been years since they reconnected, and Sirius wonders if they still feel the same. Then again, what’s another love lost? Another lost opportunity? He curses the twelve years he missed out on from the false accusations.

“But you told me mum and dad barely got along?” Harry interrupts.

Sirius bites his lip, staring up at the ceiling, pondering. “That may be the case. But, you see, James was practically tripping over himself to catch your mother’s attention. Only, she never gave him a second thought until our final year. James knew that antagonising Lily seemed to be the only way to catch her attention. Not ideal, mind you, he almost lost her to a Ravenclaw. Frankly, I have no idea how he won Lily over in the end.”

He knows Remus had something to do with it. Probably explained how James truly felt. Why he was being the idiotic way he was. After all, he and Sirius were– irrelevant. Thoughts and feelings of the past. What needs his attention now is the troubled boy in front of him.

Harry pulls at one of the loose threads on his baggy jeans, “I see.” His eyes flicker over to Sirius before returning to stare out the window. “So… what if there’s someone who’s always annoying me, trying to rile me up… does that mean that– that they might…”

“I can’t really speak for this person. For all we know, they probably detest you greatly and enjoy making you angry.”

Harry frowns and nods to himself, “that makes sense.”

Sirius slowly sat up and waited for Harry to look at him. “Why, do you think you might like them?”

Harry chuckles lightly, “it would be stupid for me to like them. They’re a bully and I’ve had plenty of bullies in my life. I wonder what it says about my brain if I feel certain things for them…” Harry fades back into his thoughts.

“Why? How do they make you feel?” Sirius notices how Harry refers to them in the third person, which made him wonder if this was a boy – another reason why Harry may have felt conflict.

Harry blushes, his smile turning bashful, “they make me feel like I’m stuck. Whenever we have confrontations, I can never walk away from them ... but they also make me feel as if I’m free? They don’t fawn over me like most of the school. Whenever he– they glare at me, it feels so cold. But in the times he’s– they’re close enough to me… I feel warm all over. It’s weird, I can tell they’re holding back lately. Which makes me wonder if they’re feelings have changed too. It’s so confusing Sirius…”

Sirius leans his elbows on his thighs and holds his hands together, palms touching, as if in prayer, “feelings are confusing. So much more at your age, when you’re still learning things. Maybe you could talk things out with this person. Tell them that you’re feeling a change in the dynamic between the two of you?”

Harry ruffles his already messy hair and groans, “emotions!”

Sirius laughs, “wow, teenage angst in pure form.”

Harry glares through his fringe, “if there’s anything I can take from the stories you’ve told me, you were more dramatic at my age.”

“Why, that is simply the trait all Blacks have. We’re a dramatic bunch.”

Harry straightens and smiles at him, “that makes a lot of sense, he is pretty dramatic… I mean–”

“I don’t mind that this person you’re interested in is a boy,” Sirius interrupts. “But what do you mean by it makes sense?”

Harry’s blush returns, “perhaps because… he’s… a Black?”

Sirius blinks, imagining a copy of the family tree. His mind scans through the ages, wondering who it could be. There aren't a lot of– “The Malfoy boy?!”

Harry squeaks – something he’ll deny in later years when Sirius drunkenly retells the story – and stands abruptly, “good talk. Really informative. I’ll see you at supper time.”

Sirius gapes, “now, just wait one second–” too late, Harry escapes. His hand, raised as if to try and stop Harry from running off, fell back to his side. His scoff turns into a full belly laugh. 

He eventually sobers.  _ Oh, Merlin. It seems we have a James and Lily situation all over again.  _ He hopes for Harry’s sake it has a happier ending.


	16. Sycophantic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #16** : _Sycophantic_ \- attempting to win favour by flattery

Harry watched as Malfoy walked and talked to one member of the ministry to another. He sipped on his bubbly slowly; well aware of how much of a lightweight he was. He caught Hermione’s eyes and she shook her head in response to his eyebrow raise.

“He’s such a sycophant, that’s the only reason why they let him in. He has a way with ‘pretty’ words apparently. Something these shallow people seem to adore.” She muttered, taking a gulp of her water. Her face crumpling at the plain taste; her craving for the bittersweet red wine was a temptation she couldn’t give into yet. She was free from alcoholic beverages until her Healer deemed it safe since she was still breast-feeding.

Harry hummed in acquiesce and sipped on his own drink. Malfoy’s presence at ministry events wasn’t exactly new. In fact, it was so frequent that he was able to reestablish the Malfoy name in a more respectable manner. He donated to the right charities and voted for the right bills in the Wizengamot. Ever since his father’s untimely death last year, he took over as head of household.

Well... a  _ new _ household, to be exact. The renowned Malfoy Manor was no more. Malfoy had it demolished and left the land open and created a sanctuary for displaced creatures. Malfoy instead settled in a secondary townhouse the Malfoy’s owned somewhere up north in Yorkshire – last Harry heard.

Well, that was a lie, Harry knew plenty about Malfoy. From where he actually lived (a very quaint flat in London) to where he went during his downtime (a bar Harry frequented).

He could never forget the shock he felt when he spotted Malfoy talking to the bartender in Soho, London. Malfoy looked at home, and when Harry approached the counter to order his drink, he didn't so much as blink an eye. In fact, he complimented Harry’s outfit for the evening.

“Looking for someone?” he had asked Harry.

Harry took the drink the bartender prepared for him and turned to Malfoy’s direction. Harry considered Malfoy and took in the outfit he was wearing. A perfectly tailored business suit that should have been seen as over the top in a bar, yet he pulled it off. Harry hummed and smiled at Malfoy.

“I might be. My name’s Harry. What’s yours?”

Malfoy smirked and took the gesture for what it was, “My name’s Draco. People tend to shorten it, thinking that I’d like such a nickname. But I was given this name by my mother, and I’m proud of it.” His bright, clear, grey eyes twinkling, amused.

“Draco. Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, Draco reached out and shook Harry’s hand.

And so Malfoy became Draco.

Something sparked from that moment, and it steadily grew into more. Harry found their developing friendship interesting. The more time they spent together, just hanging out and getting to know each other better, the more Harry couldn’t deny himself any longer. Draco always knew how to pull Harry in, and now that it was on a positive note, Harry was drawn in like a moth to a flame.

Just two weeks ago, it progressed further when Draco pushed him against a wall and proceeded to give him the best kiss he’d ever experienced. Soft full lips brushed against his lips and the sweet taste of honey whiskey invaded his senses. He was inactive, initially, shocked by the very act. He thought he would have been the first to give in. Draco must have assumed he didn’t want to kiss, as he had started to back away. Harry wasn’t having that, so he wrapped both arms around Draco’s shoulders and tugged him back for more.

Needless to say, they returned back to Harry’s. They transformed from friends into something more. Something that made Harry the happiest he’s been. 

Harry wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t told anyone about their relationship. He knew Draco hadn’t told anyone either. He wondered what was stopping them. He knew Draco had changed for the better, so why not?

He caught Draco’s eyes from across the room and they stared at each other for a moment. Despite the distance, Harry could feel Draco’s warmth as if he was right in front of him. The two weren’t shy in being affectionate, hugging each other as greetings and in farewells – only recently changed it to mind-boggling kisses. He was all too familiar with Draco’s comforting aroma and how warm he was. Draco was a surprisingly good lover.

Harry tilted his head to Hermione and raised an eyebrow. When they developed their silent communication, Harry didn’t know. Draco’s eyes widened, and his smile grew. Harry knew what those lips smiling felt like against his own. They often had to stop kissing because they couldn’t stop laughing. Laughing at the disbelief that they could be described as  _ them _ now.

Harry turned to Hermione, “so, you know how you pointed out that I seem happier lately?”

Hermione hummed, “yes? Why? Are you finally confessing to the fact that you’re dating someone?”

Harry nodded, “yeah and they’re here at the party. I’ve just asked them to come over to talk with us if that’s alright?”

At that Hermione turned around and searched the room for anyone looking their way. That was futile, everyone always paid some attention to Harry, no matter what. She instead focused on who was walking towards them. There were four people heading in their direction. The Swedish ambassador, a waiter with more drinks, Malfoy and– Malfoy?!

Hermione turned to Harry, “Harry, no.”

Harry merely winked, “Harry, yes,” and laughed once Draco reached them. He slid his arm around Draco’s waist and set to reintroducing him, “have you met my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy?”

Hermione groaned, “you’re a pure twit, Harry. You let me go on and on about how much he was annoying when all along you were standing on this landmine?!”

Draco swatted Harry’s shoulder, “you didn’t even defend my honour?”

Harry squeezed Draco closer, “what honour?”

Draco scowled, and then considered it, “true.”

Hermione shook her head at them. “Unbelievable.” She stared as they lightly teased each other, “how?”

Harry turned to her, excited to start the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do enjoy the thought of everyone telling Harry "no", only for him to reply "Harry yes" ^^;


	17. Hirsute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #17** : _Hirsute_ \- having or covered with hair

“My goodness Potter, you’re one hirsute man!”

Harry baulked at Malfoy and quickly covered himself with his towel. He looked at the bathroom door and frowned at seeing it open. He was pretty sure he locked it with his most secure charm.

“I hate to sound ignorant, but what the heck does hirsute mean?!”

Harry’s mind spiralled, did it mean something unappealing? Was it an insult? Did he even  _ want _ to know what it meant?

Malfoy’s cheeks pinkened and he fumbled with his toiletry basket. His eyes finally left Harry’s chest, and instead flickered around the room. Malfoy coughed and said something. It was too quiet, however, so Harry asked him to repeat it.

“It means hairy.”

Harry blinked. And blinked again.

“I’m trying to see how I should respond to that. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Draco took his turn in blinking. He gulped and closed the door behind him, setting his basket by the sink.

“A good thing. A  _ very _ good thing.”

Draco’s eyes darkened as he walked toward Harry.

Meanwhile, Harry thought it was a good thing, a  _ very _ good thing, that all he had to cover him was his towel. It definitely made things easier as the minutes passed by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick short one today ^^


	18. Fulsome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #18** : _Fulsome_ \- unpleasantly and excessively suave or ingratiating

Harry took in a deep inhale and smiled to himself. For once, he was alone. Don’t get him wrong, he adored his friends and adopted family. But sometimes, they just got too overbearing. The cafe he was at was purely Muggle, an added plus. There were lower chances of him running into a witch or wizard here. That and the Daily Prophet was banned from Muggle areas. All because of the disaster of 2001 where a flock of Obliviators were needed thanks to their journalists’ ignorance of the Muggle world

He moved to the front of the line and spoke his order to the barista, “just a plain roast, ooh! And a few pumps of hazelnut and caramel, please.”

“You’ve got it, mate,” they replied.

Harry gave his name,  _ James _ – you could never be too careful, and made to stand by the others waiting for their drink. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started to play one of the many games Teddy insisted he downloaded from his last visit.

His name was called, so he went to pick it up, and turned to find an empty seat. Fortunately, the cafe wasn’t so busy; there weren't a lot of patrons yet. He took a seat by the window and relaxed. A rare day off, where he could spend a few hours just being anonymous. Doing what he enjoyed most: people watching.

There was something interesting in doing so. He would often find himself thinking of stories for their whole life as they walked around him. The man across the street fixing his upturned umbrella was probably having a bad day, but his smile gave Harry the idea that he was heading home for the day to a lovely partner. The woman on her phone rushing about was probably late to a meeting or really had to pee. Either or both.

His solitude was broken not fifteen minutes later. Honestly, he just wanted some time alone, but trouble seemed to find him no matter where he wandered. Muggle or magical.

“Excuse me for being too forward, but you remind me of a magnet.” A faceless voice said to his side.

Harry gathered every piece of patience he had within and turned to the lady beside him. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “and why is that the case?”

“You’ve attracted me over here, of course!” She laughed, a light tinkling laugh. He had no doubt that it won over many men whenever she deemed it. Sadly, it wasn’t going to work on him.

“I’m sorry but–”

“My name is Catherine, pleased to meet you.” She took the seat next to him, extending her left hand out.

Harry hated making a scene, but he didn’t exactly want to touch her. He simply nodded her way, mumbling out a “James” in reply instead.

She pouted but was not discouraged, unfortunately. She carried on the rest of the conversation and laughed her way throughout. As if masking the fact that it was very one-sided. Harry started to fidget, hating how he found himself to be in that situation.

A hand grasped his shoulder out of the blue. Harry was startled, but he turned to his side and sighed in relief.  _ Draco _ .

Few years of civility that gradually blossomed into friendship meant that Harry knew something good was going to happen.

Draco was often very hilarious when dealing with confrontations. It was one of the reasons why Harry dragged him around whenever he wandered through Diagon Alley. The Daily Prophet journalists knew to keep away whenever Draco was by his side. The man had a wonderful way with words. Words that weren’t exactly ‘good for the viewership of The Daily Prophet, apologies ever so’.

“Darling, I apologise for how late I was. Would you like me to order you another drink with mine to make up for it?” His grip on Harry’s shoulder tightened slightly.

Catherine froze, staring at the man behind Harry, “oh…” she managed to utter.

“Oh, did you make a friend?” Draco turned to Harry, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Catherine feigned a text message and grabbed her cup claiming that she had somewhere else to be all of a sudden.

“Merlin, what a fulsome woman. Where did you find her?”

Harry took a sip of his coffee before replying, “I didn’t. I was just sitting here alone and she invited herself.”

Draco laughed, “well aren’t you glad to be free of that? I’m pretty sure I could feel the secondhand embarrassment from my seat. And you  _ know _ I hardly have an empathetic bone in my body.”

Harry grinned, “well, you seemed to have invited yourself over.”

Draco blinked, realising that he, indeed, was sitting beside Harry. He made to get up but was stopped by Harry’s hand on his wrist. A brief touch, but enough to make him hesitate in leaving.

“No, it’s fine. I would rather you than her.”

Draco sneered playfully, “I hate to be the second option, Potter.” Yet, he relaxed back into the seat, ignoring how he had deserted his own catch-up session with Pansy. Pansy, who had expected he wouldn’t return, left before she had to witness the two dance around each other again. 

Harry leaned his elbow on the table and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. He observed Draco for a minute, in silence, enjoying how he squirmed about.

“No, you’re definitely not a second choice,” he finally admitted, eyes sparkling in mischief.

Draco pursed his lips – if only to stop his growing smile, “smart man.”

“Why that’s a first, the great Draco Malfoy has given me a compliment. Oh my, Harry is pleased, he is,” Harry grinned, adopting House-Elf speak.

Draco laughed lightly, surprising himself by how easy it came out. “Don’t bet on there being more,” Draco retorted.

Harry’s smile grew, “does that mean you’ll be here for long?”

Draco paused, realising that there was a potential hidden meaning behind his wording. He could either play it off or choose to continue. He tilted his head to the side, this time observing instead of being observed.

“Sure, what could go wrong?”

“Ahh, but what could go right?” Harry replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading~!!
> 
> Hope everyone's staying safe wherever they are!


	19. Limpid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #19** : _Limpid_ \- clear and bright

“What a silly name. It sounds so weird, don’t you think Harry?” His new friend turns to him, anticipating for him to agree.

Harry feels the boy sat across from his stare. His eyes are bright, clear, and flashing a cold silver. He shivers as if feeling it sink into his bones, crawling up his spine. He’s no stranger to that kind of glare. However, he remembers how proud those eyes were upon introducing himself as _Draco Malfoy, pleased to see you again_. He remembers how the eyes shuttered and hid, hurt from Ron’s words, before hardening into the steely grey it is now.

Wanting to prevent conflict, he timidly asks, “like the constellation?” Harry remembers reading about planets in year 5. Things like the Milkyway and galaxies far away. Places where his aunt and uncle don’t exist. Places he’d like to run off to. He’s grateful he’s found Hogwarts, it’s far, and he hopes it’s far enough.

The eyes become limpid and turn to Harry, “yes. Exactly like the constellation. It’s from my mother’s side of the family. They have the tradition to name us after the stars.”

Ron scoffs beside them. Harry elbows him, “knock it off.”

“They’re a family of Dark wizards, Harry. You should know to stay away from their sort.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow at Ron’s quick judgement of Draco. He recalls Hagrid telling him about the Slytherin house and how every wizard who came from that house was evil.

It reminds Harry of the judgements against him. How people assumed he was bad because of things his aunt said to her gossiping neighbours. 

‘ _We’re just taking him in until he’s old enough.’_

_‘Oh, Petunia, you’re so kind and gracious! So wonderful!’_

_‘Yes, we do what we can to help him, despite how troubled he is.’_

_‘Oh, that makes you even more wholesome! I doubt I could do the same, even with family. Do you suppose he got that from his parents?’_

_‘Oh, definitely that strange father of his. My poor Lily was deceived by him, and look where that got her!’_

_‘Hmmm hmmm, indeed!’_

_‘Freaks, the lot of them!’ Vernon had interrupted_.

_Freak! Freak! Freak!_

Harry blocks his ears as if he could prevent himself from hearing it. Little luck doing that, especially if the noise was coming from inside. Inside of him, where he was freakish and weird and strange and–

“Potter?”

Harry returns to the present and notices Draco’s concerned stare. 

Draco exchanges a look with Ron. They somehow decided to forego their impending argument to focus on calming Harry down. By the time they do, it is already dark outside.


	20. Macerate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #20** : _Macerate_ \- soften and cause to disintegrate as a result. Cont. from prompt #4 "Ostentatious"

Draco had asked Harry to teach him to cook and bake because he was preparing for life at the Manor without access to the elves. He rejected the very idea of having his mother prepare for him. She had taken ill as her bond with his father slowly deteriorated. The bond was siphoning her magic to him in his weakened state. It would continue to do so until his timely passing. Draco hoped she would recover quickly when the time came. Salazar knows how much he needs her.

Well, his mother and the man stood next to him, Harry. Kind-hearted and generous and all things good Gryffindor, Harry. He had no idea how they managed to move past friendship into whatever  _ this _ was. Draco was careful to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong. He apologised to those who needed his apologies. He sat through endless lectures from Granger (funnily enough, with Weasley), learning about the Muggle world.

He remembered how the idea came about in the first place. They were sitting in Draco’s bed, sharing a batch of freshly made chocolate chip biscuits and Butterbeer. Hidden behind his curtains, Draco confessed his fears of being helpless in aiding his mother. Harry offered to teach him some basic things, confessing his own feelings of helplessness. Of being alone in a dark small space. That was the first time Draco had hugged him; the first time Harry had swiped Draco’s cheek with his thumb, wiping away his silent tears.

The very first time they met for these sessions, it was in secret. It had stayed that way until two weeks ago when Harry had _very publicly_ kissed Draco outside their classroom. Not that Draco was complaining, he enjoyed each and every one of Harry’s kisses. _I could have done without the dip though,_ _Potter!_ He complained when they separated, huffing.

Draco was too shy to share with others what they were doing, especially if it meant he would sometimes fail. Harry had understood and found someplace private for them to practice. It was an old potions classroom, which was ideal since they needed places for the flame to be constant.

They were simple things at first. The classic victoria sponge. How hard could it have been? Draco wondered. Well, he was wrong. It was hard, very hard. He had stared at the mess before him and the picture in the cookbook. He repeated the action two more times. Harry had tried to stifle his laughter, but the growing agitation on Draco’s face set him off.

“It’s okay, we can just try again.” He reassured him, wrapping an arm around Draco’s shoulders.

It was a testament to how distressed Draco was when he leaned his head on Harry’s shoulder and sighed.

“I’m a terrible cook. You might as well macerate this mess I’ve made!”

Harry laughed, his breath ruffling some of the loose hair that escaped Draco’s messy bun.

“No harm in trying again, love.”


	21. Scion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #21** : _Scion_ \- a descendent or heir

You are the Malfoy heir. You have responsibilities, and your dalliances need to cease this instant. This phase of yours is of no benefit to the betterment of your future. You must remember that the world is looking at you. You must do what it takes to fix our reputation. You must marry a respectable witch and sire a male heir. You must make good, clever choices.

You must– you must– you must…

Draco punches his pillow multiple times. His mouth silently mocking his father’s directions. What good would they do? Lucius had ruined the Malfoy name beyond recognition. There  _ were _ no prospects heading his way.

His door opens and the voice of the only person he can tolerate right now asks him what’s wrong – well, there’s  _ one _ prospect there, but that’s beside the point.

“Oh nothing new, just imagining this pillow is my father’s face.”

Harry laughs, “can I take a turn?”

Draco turns to Harry, “I would, but I’m quite fond of this pillow. I fear you’d obliterate it–”

“Damned right I would,” Harry interrupts unflinchingly. “So, what has dear old dad done this time?”

“Firstly, he’s not dear to me, and secondly, he’s sent another letter trying to… for lack of better wording, set me straight.”

Harry jumps onto Draco’s bed and lies across his back, ignoring his protests. “Does he not know how serious I am about you?”

Draco huffs, trying to breathe despite the weight of the oaf on top of him, “Merlin, did you have an eating contest with Weasley earlier? You’re heavier than normal.”

“Don’t change the topic.”

Draco sighs, and rotates his body to the best of his ability. Harry’s head now rests against his stomach. He lowers his hand and cords his fingers through the dark tangled mess he’s become so terribly fond of.

“I think he’s trying to ignore it as it prevents the outcome of scions.”

Harry snorts, “scion is such an archaic sounding word.”

“Would you prefer offspring? Spawn? Bairn? Brats? Parasites that live off my savings?”

Harry’s head turns to face Draco. He holds his gaze and closes his eyes when Draco traces his thick eyebrows. “Would it be so bad to have a child?”

Draco startles, this is the first Harry’s said anything about the prospect of having children.

“What? And make it a bastard?”

Harry’s eyes remain closed, a smile grows on his face, “not if I can help it.”

Draco stills, confused. Is Harry suggesting–

“Not right now. We’re still in school,  _ Merlin _ . But… When we graduate, and a few years down the line… I’m not opposed to it–”

Draco pulls Harry up, arranging him so that Harry’s face is above his. Harry’s hands push against his pillow, making his head tilt back. For some reason, his eyes have started to water. To think that someone could still want him.  _ Him _ . Tainted, evil, cold,  _ him _ . Draco pulls Harry down and kisses his forehead, his eyelids, his left cheek, then the right. His lips lightly ghost Harry’s, before Harry gives in with a groan and leans down into Draco.

“Yes yes yes yes,” Draco chants whenever he gets the chance. Their grins breaking the numerous kisses. That’s alright. They have a lifetime together to learn how to coordinate.


	22. Recreant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #22** : _Recreant_ \- having deserted a cause or principle

Draco froze, taking in the horror before him. _No_ , this isn’t what he thought it was going to be like. He felt the chill rushing through his nerves. He trained his eyes to focus on the wall behind the screaming woman. He forced his eyes to ignore her begging for mercy. His fists closed, hidden under the long sleeves of his robes. He refused to show his disgust.

What kind of world was it if this was to be acceptable? This senseless killing? How could his father have been so blinded, so stupid?

The sudden smell of iron hit his nostrils. He opened his mouth slightly so he could inhale that way. Something wet was dripping onto the ground. He blinked back the prickling heat he could feel behind his eyes. It would not help to show weakness among these savages. To them, weakness was like blood to a shark. Then again, they were probably worse than sharks, with how bloodthirsty these _monsters_ were.

He hid his wince once he realised how tight his clenched fists had got. Somehow his nails dug into his palms. He could feel wounds starting to form, but it would be stupid to check for the crescent-shaped moons.

With dread, he realised what was going to happen. He could no longer take any more of this. He was going to become a recreant. 

For the next few days, he kept his eyes down and cleared his mind. He didn’t know how he would be able to pull this off. Never mind when.

On the Thursday of their week off from Hogwarts, he was called into one of the manor’s many sitting rooms. The room was heavy with anticipation and iron – a scent which he hated so much recently.

“Draco... son. I need you to confirm something.” He looked at his father, his cheekbones prominent, eyelids tinted lavender, and hair stringy with grease. “Is this the Potter boy?”

Draco noticed the crouching form his father was pointing toward. He used every bit of control he had left. He kept his face blank as he approached the kneeling boy. The scent of damp grass emanated from him, yet it wasn’t strong enough to mask that _damned iron_ from the cuts on his forehead. Aunt Bella had her fist on his hair, forcing his head up.

Their eyes met. Draco knew those eyes from across the room. Of course, he knew who this was.

“I— I can’t be sure.”

There was no going back. He was done.

“I don’t think so.”

He was done with this.


	23. Epiphany

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #23** : _Epiphany_ \- a sudden realisation

A common occurrence in the shared area for the Eighth years was the sight of Harry and Draco playfully wrestling on the couch. Laughing together, with insults being called out fondly as if they were pet names.

It hadn’t always been like that. The friendship they established came from many nights of sharing stories. The first night came to be due to a little game of truth or dare. Harry didn’t want to play since he had so many war secrets that those who weren’t part of needed to be privy to. Ron had goaded him into it and cheered when he eventually gave in. What proceeded was one hour of awkward dares and tense truths. Harry, feeling the discomfort, did the only thing he felt he could do. He burst out in laughter. The rest of the group laughed with him, and the tension broke. The teenagers finally realising what they were – free from responsibilities, for once, and carried on with the game. The following day was lighter for them, and all the necessary apologies were uttered by dinner time.

Now, this night, in particular, was special. It was the night when things changed for Harry and Draco again. Oh, the rest of the common room were aware. But these oblivious fools hadn’t yet seen what could be.

As if sensing a change in the atmosphere, Hermione and Pansy paused in their conversation. They turned their attention to the couch, where Draco had straddled Harry and was trying to reach his neck where he was the most ticklish.

“Do you reckon it’ll be today?” Hermione asked Pansy.

She pursed her lips and tilted her head. It was obvious to her that Draco’s fond gaze was full of adoration for the boy below him. That may be because she had known him for nearly all her life. However, when she looked at Hermione’s knowing stare, she figured he pretty much became an open book when it came to Harry.

“I’ll eat my sock if it isn’t,” she replied assuredly.

They watched in anticipation as Draco paused in his ministrations. He leaned closer to Harry’s face and whispered something. His thumb brushed against Harry’s cheek and showed him what he had found. She guessed it was probably an eyelash. Pansy held in her gasp when their eyes met. She kicked Hermione under the table in excitement. This was it! She saw their faces light up with an epiphany of how they truly felt. Draco leaned down further and pressed a tentative kiss against Harry’s cheek.

The common room let out a sigh of collective relief.

Like a meerkat, Draco sat up and stared around, finally noting that they weren’t alone. He groaned in embarrassment, his cheeks and ears turning a delightfully bright Gryffindor red. _Traitor_ , Pansy thought, smiling.


	24. Insipid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #24** : _Insipid_ \- lacking interest or significance or impact

Harry took his regular seat across Hermione in the common room. At the end of every day, she liked to sit together with him and unwind. Their time spent together in the forest of Dean made her grow closer to Harry ( _ platonically, Ron! _ ). That, and she didn’t want to complain about Ron to, well, Ron. She knew how hard he was trying to make things work, but sometimes, he was just so… so  _ Ron _ about things.

He listened absent-mindedly and nodded to her words whenever it was necessary. He could have agreed to a bloodletting ritual and he wouldn’t have known. The whole time, his mind was focused on how itchy his lips felt. He had no idea what it could have been the cause, did he eat something weird?

“Harry, are you okay? Your lips are looking really red.” Hermione leaned closer, inspecting them.

Harry frowned, “they seem kind of itchy. I’m sorry I wasn’t paying much attention. It’s just–”

“Are you allergic to something? Maybe that’s what it was. What did you eat that you don’t normally eat?”

Harry thought back to the meal they just ate, it was nothing out of ordinary. He ate the regular foods he normally did. That and… something else. He could feel his cheeks flush when he remembered something else that touched his lips. Soft, warm, enjoyable things.

“Draco!” Harry’s head spun in the direction of Parkinson’s voice. “Did you leave any raspberries for me?”

In front of him was a bowl of probably three raspberries, “I don’t know. You have eyes, are there some left?” He took another one and bit it in half, staring her down. Harry’s mouth flew open as he watched Draco insipidly rub the remaining half against his lips. He smirked, not needing to look in Harry’s direction to know how affected Harry was. After being watched by Harry for so long, one gains the gift for it.

Harry’s mind registered that Draco did taste somewhat fruity earlier.

“I think I’m allergic to raspberries,” he quietly told Hermione. Knowing her, with this information, she’d be able to figure this out without him having to explicitly say it.


	25. Expurgate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #25** : _Expurgate_ \- edit by omitting or modifying parts considered indelicate

Harry opened the day’s edition of The Daily Prophet and smiled at the photo he saw on the front page. They managed to capture his smitten gaze for Draco as he talked. From what he remembered, Draco was explaining how one of his experiments worked the other day, and that they needed to celebrate. It wasn’t often that things were successful for him, after all, so Harry wanted to go all out and parade his boyfriend throughout the streets. His happy mood soured once he noticed the words surrounding the gorgeous photo of him and his love.

Draco kicked his shin from across the table and asked him to read aloud what today’s headlines were.

“Well, as expected from yesterday’s excursion, we made the front page. I must say, we do look lovely in the photograph. You’re positively captivating. I could stare at it the whole day. Only why should I, when I have the real thing before me?” Harry winked.

Draco scoffed, then laughed, “you’re a fool. Now, go on. Keep reading, tell me how things are in the eyes of the uninformed.”

Harry sighed, and started to read out loud.

**_Potter and Co. spotted on the go_ **

_ Spotted in Diagon Alley was another sighting of the notoriously secretive and questionable partnership. Pictured below are the saviour of the Wizarding world, Mr Harry Potter (22), and heir to the Malfoy fortune, Mr Draco Malfoy (23).  _

“We were seen in Diagon Alley, and for once they got our ages right,” Harry summarised.

_ They visited shops, seemingly at random – one can never know, though. The potions apothecary, Newt’s Collection, was the first stop. What heinous ingredients did the Malfoy heir purchase this time round, we wonder? It is a well known fact that Mr Malfoy is currently working towards his Potions Mastery, but is this a cover for his true intentions? Potion masters in the making tend to be allowed dangerous materials the common wizard cannot gain access to. Is this how the Malfoy heir is able to experiment successfully and trap Boy Wonder? _

Now that was tricky. Harry turned the paper towards him, shielding most of it from Draco’s view. “Umm… They then mentioned how you’re a promising potions apprentice. They saw us enter Newt’s,” he noted. Draco hummed and sipped his freshly squeezed orange juice. He gestured for Harry to continue.

_ A concerned resident, who wishes to remain anonymous, overheard a conversation between the two. The pair aptly named ‘Potter-Malfoy’ are normally very hard to get a hold of, but what she said was telling of their relationship. “I heard them talking about making plans to destroy something. Now I know Mr Potter would never want to do something like that, so it is obvious he is under something very nefarious,” she said. _

Harry rolled his eyes at that. “Oh my gosh, one of the ladies who was probably walking near us overheard how I wanted to remake the second floor. I wouldn’t exactly say she worded it correctly...”

Draco rolled his eyes, “you’d think our days of wrecking havoc among the common folk are behind us. Merlin, Harry. We’ve become domestic!”

Harry nodded in agreement and turned back to the paper. He shook it to straighten the paper as he had wrinkled it from frustration at what he read.

_ Newt’s Collection’s owner, Patrice Ainsley, refused to comment on what they purchased, as it is “against their confidentiality [she] provides [her] patrons”. Understandable, of course, but for the good of the Wizarding community, surely she could reveal some information. Surely there was something dangerous purchased that could alert the correct authorities. Perhaps if Mr Potter finished his Auror training last year, he would have been able to arrest the Malfoy heir rather than be taken in by him. _

“Patrice is once again proving her excellence in professionalism,” he admitted while scanning further down the page. Draco could see that what he was reading wasn’t exactly pretty, from the way his face turned sour.

_ The next stop for this couple was the newly established cafe, Wands-erful, where they are seen together frequently. Mr Potter ordered his regular drink, a butterscotch flavoured iced coffee, while Mr Malfoy predictably ordered a French roast coffee, black. Like his soul, no doubt. After all, those who have taken the Dark Mark must have an absence in their soul from the magic— _

And that was when Harry decided to stop reading. He crumpled up the paper and was about to Incendio it when Draco’s hand grasped his wrist. Harry tried fighting against it but sighed as Draco refused to relinquish his hold.

“Now, Harry, tell me more.”

“No, this really is rubbish. I don’t know why we still have a subscription. We really shouldn’t waste our money on this drivel anyway.”

“Now, my darling dear, I wish you would give me the grace so as to not expurgate the paper. I’m a big boy, I can handle it, you know?”

Harry reached out and grasped Draco’s hand in his own. He tenderly rubbed his thumb against the inside of Draco’s wrist, “I know you are and that you can. But this is pure slander. I don’t see any benefit for you by reading this. I want to do what little I can to make you happy. If that means keeping you from seeing the bad, then that’s what I’ll do,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco stood up and walked until he was behind Harry. He bent down and wrapped his arms around Harry and rested his chin on the top of Harry’s hair. Harry, in turn, raised his hand and gripped Draco’s clasped hands that were resting over his heart. “Thank you, but how am I supposed to enact proper revenge if you don’t give me proper context? Hmm?”

Harry laughed, knowing full well that Draco wasn’t just saying that. “Okay okay, here you read it then. But remember I’m still here, regardless of what they say. Nothing is going to make me leave. You know that right?”

Draco nodded, managing to inhale some of Harry’s hair on accident, “Salazar knows why you stick around. But as you’ve seen me in my darkest moments and are still here, so yes. I do know.”

“Good,” Harry replied, handing the paper over.


	26. Chicanery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #26** : _Chicanery_ \- the use of tricks to deceive someone

Harry glared at the twins as they ran away from him. He thought about chasing them but saw no point as they already accomplished what they wanted. He had hoped that being their silent investor meant immunity from being a test-subject. Yet, there he stood, angry that he fell for their chicanery. Again.

He managed to get them to confess what it was exactly they gave him before they made their escape. What he heard, however, filled him with dread. ‘Verita-sweets’ Fred called it, ‘makes you honest’ George had added. Their smirks grew the whole time.

_ They really should’ve been in Slytherin _ , Harry mused. Perhaps they were given the choice as he had. It would make the most sense.

A loud gong resonated throughout the corridors, alerting him that it was past curfew. Harry cursed under his breath. He had planned to sneak into the Hospital Wing for more dittany since the wound on his hand had started to reopen. Fat chance he could do that now.

He turned to the direction of Gryffindor tower, regretting the fact that he left his cloak in the dorm before he wandered out. It was a stupid, stupid, rookie mistake. 

A mistake made more evident when he heard telltale footsteps heading in his direction. The fact that it wasn’t followed by a cat’s meow relaxed him slightly. It was probably a Prefect. He hoped luck was on his side and that it was either Hermione or Ron.

He made it to the corner before they would ultimately meet and peeked.  _ Oh for fuck's sake _ , he internally groaned. Who else could it be but Malfoy, the bane of his existence, walking closer?

Before he could turn around and find a place to hide, Malfoy spotted him. It was like Christmas came early for the blond boy with the way his eyes lit up.

“Well well well, what do we have here? A lost little Potty?” He sneered, hands in his pockets, totally aloof.

Harry has no response, he didn’t want to talk to him. He just waited for Malfoy to dole out the punishment so he could be on his way.

“Were you coming back from a tryst, perhaps? Not exactly exemplar behaviour for the Golden Boy, hmm?”

Harry snorted, “that is unbelievably incorrect, you have no idea.”

Malfoy raised an almost invisible eyebrow, “oh? So if I retrace your steps, I won’t find a girl scurrying to her house, presuming she’s not a Gryffindork?”

Harry shook his head, “doubt that would be the case. I don’t really like g–” Dammit! He hadn’t expected the Verita-sweet to still be in his system. Maybe he should’ve chased after the twins. If only so he could wring their necks for fooling him.

Malfoy’s face merely lit up with mirth at seeing Harry’s obvious distress, “so the Golden Boy’s actually a rainbow. Interesting.”

Harry choked, “no– yes– I mean, don’t be ridiculous! I’m not– am! Fuck!”

Malfoy stepped closer, appearing curious, “are you high on something? You’re stuttering more than usual. I know you lack eloquence, but this is too much. Even for you.”

“I never knew you could act so concerned.” Harry drawled, trying to see if he could change the topic.

Malfoy tilted his head, considering Harry for a while. “Were you hexed, or something?”

Harry rolled his eyes, “yeah, definitely something. And when I get my hands on those two imbeciles I’m gonna enjoy torturing them.”

At this, Malfoy stepped back slightly, “uhh, are you sure you should be admitting to torture to a Prefect?”

Harry looked into his eyes, “what? Like you wouldn’t want to exact revenge on the Weasley Twins? I know you’re a pretty popular one to get pranked by them.”

“How exactly were you victimised this time round? Along with that, what are you even doing out at this time?”

Harry hesitated, trying to resist the urge from the sweet, “Verita-sweet, they called it. I guess it’s a mild form of Veritaserum. I… I was walking around to find– something.” There, that was vague enough and the Verita-sweet seemed satisfied with his answer.

Malfoy nodded, it made sense. Harry wouldn’t have easily answered his questions like that, if not for some form of extraneous variables. To know that whatever he asked Harry would give a truthful answer, however, filled him with a certain power. As if reading his thoughts Harry started to back away.

“Not so fast, Potter. I still need to punish you for being out past curfew.”

Harry groaned and waited. He made a gesture with his hand as if to say ‘go on then’. Malfoy pursed his lips and wondered what he could dole out. An idea grew in his mind, much like the smirk on his face.

“So you say you were pranked by the Weasel twins. Say, want to help me with payback?”

Harry hadn’t been expecting that, but the more he thought about it, the more appeal the idea had. He nodded in agreement, “sure.”

Malfoy smiled, but before he could say something Harry interrupted him, “just don’t ask me anything until the sweet wears off.”

Malfoy pouted, “but about the girl thing—” 

Harry sighed. He hadn't expected to come out to Malfoy, of all people, but it seemed the cat was out of the bag. Or rather, he was out of the closet. “Yeah, yeah. I like blokes. Moving on?”

Malfoy gulped, not expecting the easy agreement. It also didn’t help those thoughts he assumed he’d repressed rushed through his mind. He cleared his throat and fixed his robes, “right. I’ll let you off tonight. Meet me tomorrow during our free lesson and we’ll convene then.”

Harry nodded, glad to finally be rid of Malfoy. “Great. See you.” He turned and walked off before Malfoy could change his mind.


	27. Emacity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #27** : _Emacity_ \- a fondness for buying things

Harry followed Draco around with a fond smile. He just enjoyed being there to witness the little bursts of joy that Draco let out. 

It was the weekend before Easter break and he had finally gathered the courage needed to ask if Draco wanted to come home with him. They were browsing through the shops, last minute, trying to find something interesting to give to Andromeda and Teddy who were staying at Grimmauld Place for the time being.

Initially, the plan was supposed to be that they would go as friends. However, roughly two weeks ago, that all changed thanks to a loose stone protruding the ground.

Draco wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings; he was too busy explaining why rose water was overpriced for such a common ingredient that he didn’t notice the upturned stone ( _“it was a boulder and I could have died or worse, ruined my face!” “Yes, love, we believe you...”_ ). He tripped gracelessly ( _“I am as elegant as a swan!” “You’re definitely as loud as one!” “I resent that fact, Harry.”_ ) and Harry caught him – laughing the whole time – before he could fall on his face. 

With one arm wrapped around Draco’s waist and the other around his shoulder, Harry found himself staring into wide grey eyes. It was like the world around him had disappeared. The chirping of birds ceased. All he could see was Draco; his bright hair ruffling from the soft breeze, his face softening from the initial shock, his eyes crinkling slightly from the smile growing on his soft, pink lips. All he could hear was Draco; his quick breathing, the beginnings of a laugh, a sigh. All he could smell was Draco; something citrusy, fresh, and pleasant. All he could feel was Draco; his warmth, the shape of his muscles under his hands, how perfect he felt in Harry’s arms.

He couldn’t help himself but to lean in and press a quick kiss onto his cheek. Embarrassed, he quickly pulled away and let go of Draco as he rightened himself. He avoided Draco’s scrutiny, choosing instead to watch the trees’ leaves rustle from the breeze as Draco fixed his coat. Harry chanced a look at him and gasped when Draco reached out to grab him.

“If you can’t be the brave one, I guess it falls on me, just this once,” he said, playfully squeezing Harry's cheeks together. He leaned down and pressed his lips against Harry’s pouting lips.

Harry hummed pleased and wrapped his arms around Draco.

“Now that’s a proper kiss,” Draco announced when he pulled away.

“Okay,” Harry agreed easily, “would thee be kind to giveth more?”

Draco wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, “what doth thou thinketh?”

Harry was brought back to the present when he heard Draco squeal excitedly. ( _“Point one to me. I told you. You’re loud.” “Well, you’re louder in other things.” “Shh! There are children around!” “Teddy’s only one, he can’t understand us.” “We’re scarring him- oh stop your pouting.”_ ) Harry looked over Draco’s shoulder and watched as he picked out small socks with snitches flying around it.

“These are adorable!” He pulled two out from the pile and showed it to Harry, who tucked his chin against Draco’s shoulder.

“Mhmm, that and the other fifteen socks you’ve picked up.” He teased, blowing air down Draco’s neck, knowing he’d flinch.

“Prat. Let me have my emacity. I know I’m not the only one. Don’t think I didn’t notice you adding another box of chocolates.”

Harry pouted, “you have your baby related obsession, let me have my chocolate urges.”

Draco rolled his eyes and patted his cheeks, “whatever floats your boat. Let’s go- oh! Look over there! Those onesies are precious! Harry! Quick, before they’re gone!”

Draco reached out, grabbing Harry’s hand and tugged him over to another section of the store. Harry merely smiled adoringly at his boyfriend, “yes, dear.”


	28. Pauciloquent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #28** : _Pauciloquent_ \- using or uttering few words when speaking

Sometime in his second year, Harry found himself walking around alone. His robes were drowning him with how big they were. He scowled when he tripped over a crack in the ground. The prescription in his glasses wasn't the right one. If it was, he would have probably noticed the gap in the ground. He knew it would be pointless to ask for a visit to the Opticians. As if Aunt Petunia would waste money on him when she already wasted money by giving him the bare necessities of water and clothing.

_ “Aunt Petunia, th– these clothes are quite big…” Harry mumbled, pulling the loose shirt away from his torso. _

_ “That’s the point, you dull boy. This way you can grow into it, and I won’t have to waste more money on you.” She pushed him out of the charity store and led the way back to their home. She stopped when Harry hadn’t followed her. She placed her hand on her hip and started tapping her foot, “well?” _

_ Harry quickly stumbled to her side, “th-thank you,” he managed. _

_ She turned away with a forced exhale and ignored him the rest of the walk. _

It was for this reason why he sought to buy a larger sized robe for his first year. He was currently in his second year at Hogwarts, and yet, the robes still swamped over him. He didn’t expect any different. Growing in size didn’t seem to be something in his future. In fact, some of the first years in Gryffindor towered over him. Something that sometimes caused him to panic slightly, especially when they ran all over the common room excitedly.

He heard laughter in the courtyard and before he could turn around quickly to avoid them, they noticed him. The snobbish voice of the young Malfoy always made Harry’s blood boil. There were rare times when he found the strength to combat Malfoy verbally, oftentimes, however, all he could do was glare. It was better than stuttering and giving the boy more ammunition against him.

It was as if fate wanted to make his life worse because this was one such time when words couldn’t form in his mouth. It was still a few weeks into the month and Harry was still trying to adjust to a world where people talked to him, rather than at him. Because of this, Malfoy’s taunts hit a little bit closer to home than usual.

He would open his mouth to try and reply. Something witty and clever in response. Only words weren’t coming to mind. His voice wasn’t loud enough, causing Malfoy to sneer and call him mute. Harry stuttered out a few words, trying to leave. He was alone, one against three. The situation wasn’t looking any better.

“Merlin, you aren’t eloquent, are you?” Malfoy closed in on Harry, frowning down at the boy. At twelve years old, he proudly stood a head taller than Harry. Something he enjoyed, as it clearly showed how below him Harry was.

Harry shook his head, “pauciloquent… I think…” he murmured, looking down. He refused to look up and give Malfoy more power than he supposedly had.

If he had, he would have seen Malfoy’s eyes widen. He looked to his side and saw Goyle and Crabbe looking confused. They didn’t know what the word meant, which wasn’t a surprise to Malfoy. He was still trying to guide them in other things, they hadn’t got round to vocabulary yet.

“How did you come across that word? I wouldn’t have thought you’d even have that in your limited vocabulary.”

Harry’s breathing escalated slightly. He remembered where he heard that word, and it wasn’t a pleasant memory. He was surprised he still had it.

“Uhh… something my teachers– they said it a lot. Classmates got word of it and called me Pauciloquent Potter… I didn’t realise I’d remembered the word.”

This confused Malfoy. He had grown up assuming that the Boy-who-lived lived a pampered life where schoolyard teasing wasn’t part of it. He frowned seeing Harry look out of place. The regular fire wasn’t anywhere in this short boy. “I know one thing. You aren’t pauciloquent. Crabbe and Goyle definitely are, but that’s not you. You’re something else…”

Harry looked up so fast, he wondered if he had whiplash, “something else?”

Malfoy nodded and gestured for Harry to follow him out into the courtyard to a seat on a bench. Crabbe and Goyle followed and sat on the bench opposite them. “I’ve been teaching these two some interesting words because frankly, they’re lacking in it. Would you like to join us? I think I can find a word to describe you better…?”

Harry looked down at his hands, hidden under the long sleeves of his cloak. How was this his life right now? What was going on? Malfoy was acting quite kind toward him, and he didn’t know how to feel. Maybe he’d give the boy a benefit of the doubt. Without looking up, he nodded slightly in agreement.

“Excellent,” Malfoy said, pleased. He held his hand out to Harry, a reenactment of the previous year’s request. Harry stared at it for a while and accepted it for the gesture it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know sassy Harry is a thing, but I wanted to explore the opposite in this ^^


	29. Hypermnesia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #29** : _Hypermnesia_ \- unusual power or elevated level of memory recall

Harry has a catalogue. A list of things about one thing, or rather, one person. That person being Draco Malfoy. He hasn’t written it out. There’s no reason to do so; it’s all there perfectly recorded in his mind. This hypermnesia of his should be worrisome, but he pays it no mind. Why should he when all it does is bring him joy? He’d rather focus on this than the dark… dark thoughts.

What is that catalogue, you wonder? Well, that’s one of Harry’s closely guarded (albeit guilty) secrets. He hasn’t told anyone the extent of what he knows. He suspects his close friends might be aware, but they don’t know the full extent of how deep his knowledge of Draco is. He’s too embarrassed to say how he managed to collect such data. (Through many years of watching said person. Obsessively, some may say; adoringly, he’d refute).

For example, category laughter, filed under joy. You may be wondering what’s so special about Draco’s laughter? Harry could write an essay, nay, a book about it. The way it starts in his shoulders; how his eyes lose the hard sheen and instead soften; how the beginnings of a smile curl around his lips; how a slight blush forms on his cheeks. He could talk about the cadence of the laughter. Like music, starting with an introduction. A sudden inhalation, getting ready for verse one. Sometimes there’s the change in sequence, like an indelicate snort. The laugh continues, sometimes it is short and sweet: a giggle, a chortle, or a fond exhale he doesn’t mean to release. When it’s long, it’s uncontrolled, rapturous. Eyes closed, lost in the feeling of unbridled happiness.

When the laugh is because of Harry, with Harry… it very nearly breaks him whilst simultaneously mending him.

There was a time when he hadn’t been the source of joy for Draco. Before, his laugh was mocking. It was bitter, biting, and chilling. Now, however, it’s warm. It surrounds him like a phantom embrace. Seeping into where he's broken, sealing him back together. Healing him.

Laughter is not the only thing he has recorded about Draco. He’s also paid attention to the opposite emotion – sadness. Harry witnessed it in the past, once being the direct cause of it. After Lucius’ arrest, Draco had cornered him. He had punched the wall beside Harry’s head, clearly aiming to strike his face. His sneer took up most of his face, eyes squinting in pure rage. He had tears pooling in his thunderous cloud coloured eyes. His breath stuttering in an attempt to gain composure.

“You’ll pay for this, Potter,” he had promised.

Today, he makes different promises. Promises to keep going; to move forward and take each day in as a gift. Today his sadness and rage isn’t addressed to Harry, but rather to the world, and, ironically enough, his own father. The unfairness of it all.

Each day Harry learns something new, finds something new to add to his catalogue.

He adds the warmth of Draco’s embrace. How he silently laughs into Harry’s ear, in disbelief that he can do so. He adds how soft Draco’s hands feel gripping his own whenever they wander around the school grounds. How even when he doesn’t feel like holding hands, Draco will curl their pinky fingers together in a silent promise of solidarity.


	30. Obambulate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #30** : _Obambulate_ \- to walk about or wander  
> Muggle AU, cus why not?

The flashing lights of the club started to give him a headache. He groaned and closed his eyes tight hoping it would help, however, all it did was seem to make the pulsing music louder. He pushed away from the table he was leaning against and gestured to his friends that he was going to leave. They asked if he wanted them to go with him, but he replied that they should stay and enjoy themselves.

He obambulated towards the door which wasn’t as packed as earlier with eager Freshies wanting to get their first taste of freedom. He ignored the bouncer’s farewell and trudged down the street. He took his phone out of his pocket and browsed through his Twitter feed as he walked, uncaring of who he bumped into. After all, he wasn’t the only one walking around aimlessly.

The smell of seasoned meat took over his senses and he was drawn to the open kebab shop. It’s flickering neon lights gave him the same irritating headache as in the club. But the smell was too enticing, and he admitted to himself that he was getting increasingly hungry. He reached the door and opened it, causing the smell to increase in strength. It looked as if he wasn’t the only tipsy person in the establishment. He spied a couple getting way too cosy in public and moved away from them. He leaned against the glass, joining the queue.

When it was finally his turn at the front, he ordered his regular and batted his eyes at the tired worker for an extra helping of their delicious sauce. She merely rolled her eyes at him and threw in three more packets. _Thank you, darling_ , he drawled, making sure to wink. She ushered him away and moved onto the next customer.

Happy with his purchase, he nearly skipped the rest of the way to his accommodation. Of course, he didn’t. He wasn’t _that_ drunk.

He looked up into the night sky and frowned at the absence of the stars. Which was a given, seeing as he lived in quite a busy city. He missed the stars he used to see from his bedroom, back at home in Wiltshire. He knew all the constellations by name, and would often make up new ones. Picturing new shapes in the sky.

Before long, he had reached his front door. Behind the thin curtains, he saw lights coming from the TV. His melancholy mood left and was replaced with joy. He hoped he was right in his assumption of who it was in the living room.

He unlocked and opened the door. He nearly tripped over the pile of shoes by the welcome mat, and almost cried when he lost his grip on his takeout bag. He travelled far and wide for this conquest and like hell he’d lose it because of some upturned trainers.

“Draco?”

Draco grunted from his position, trying to remove his shoes with one hand. He heard the other person walk into the hallway and ignored their attempt at stifling their laughter.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you used two hands to get rid of your shoes?”

Draco looked up and sneered at his flatmate. He pouted and held out the hand carrying his food.

“As if I’d let my food rest on the floor.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and turned to the little table they kept by the coatrack. Draco flushed slightly and returned to the battle of shoes and laces. He kept one hand raised, waiting for Harry to take the food. When he did, Draco mumbled _thanks_ and finished removing his shoes.

Satisfied, Draco stood up and faced Harry. He smiled at the shorter man and accepted his food. Harry simply rolled his eyes and walked back into their living room. Draco followed behind and sat on the couch while Harry headed to the kitchen. He returned with two plates, some utensils and a bag of fish and chips. Draco smiled at Harry and the two plated their food with practised ease.

They settled into the couch and watched Harry’s favourite comedy show in silence except for the sound of chewing and occasional laughter.

Draco sucked the kebab sauce from his fingers and turned to Harry who was watching him fixated. “You’re the best flatmate ever,” Draco said, teasingly.

Harry rolled his eyes, “not just flatmate, I hope.”

Despite his nonchalance, Draco could detect some insecurity behind his words.

He reached out with his clean hand and held tightly onto Harry’s thigh, “no, not just flatmate,” he promised.

That seemed to work for Harry, who turned back to the TV and leaned against Draco’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more and then I'm done!


	31. Empyrean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Prompt #31** : _Empyrean_ \- of or relating to the sky or heavens

The saying goes like this: Harry Potter is happiest when he flies and Draco Malfoy is angel-like in everyone’s eyes. The two together are perfectly empyrean. Made for each other; destiny has spoken. It was inevitable that they would come together. Glances shared between their respective friends. As if to exasperatedly say,  _ do you see how he pines _ ? and  _ tragically obvious, don’t you gather _ ?

Harry in flight is majestic to see. While he may have been powerful on foot, reducing Dark lords into soot, in the sky – where he has nothing binding him – that is when he is truly free. He is laughter personified, joy glorified. A delight to those bearing witness to such glee.

One such witness was Draco Malfoy. He would sit in the stands and admire. Admire the man before him. Strong thighs embracing the new Canis Riptide, protected by the dark brown Quidditch leggings. He holds in a sigh, preventing the urge to swoon. Like a bird dancing to attract a mate, Harry flies in figures of eight. Swooping high and low, laughing the whole time.

It’s not as if Harry can’t see him. With hair that bright, reflecting the sunlight despite the cloudy day. Like a beacon, no, a halo, surrounding his head. Harry is  _ very  _ aware and he is not entirely ashamed to say he’s showing off.

The two have been dancing around each other for the past few days; like a courting ritual. ( _ Spring is coming up, will that be the time _ ? Their friends ask themselves, too afraid to interrupt whatever it is that’s building between them, no matter how much they want to.) Ever since that encounter after the House-unity Christmas party Hermione had arranged. A game of two truths and a lie led to a confession that they didn’t expect to say. A mutual fixation on each other.

Draco’s hands itch with the urge to sketch. He can almost picture wings on Harry’s back, how natural it would look on him. He thinks of Icarus, then frowns. Fire is not something he wants to see surrounding Harry, even if only in his mind. He’s had that vision imprinted in the back of his eyelids too many times. Once was enough.

Harry pauses in the air, spreads his arms out, and closes his eyes. He inhales the fresh scent of green and, with it, life. He looks down and his eyes find Draco’s form instantly. He stares at how Draco’s relaxed body leans back on the bleacher as if a lazy god watching the jester entertain. He looks ethereal, like an emperor who requires someone to feed him grapes.  _ I want to be that someone _ , Harry realises.  _ I want to give him the world _ .

He looks around and feels the growing anticipation heavy in the air. He is thankful that it is only the two of them outside at the moment. With a deep breath, he lowers down to Slytherin territory. Draco straightens up once they’re within a metre of each other. Harry bobbing in the air, staring down at him. Something passes between them. That’s when they knew, this was inescapable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I actually _did_ it! This is the first time I actually managed to complete something like this on time. That said, I will probably not do a daily challenge like this for a while. Even though these were just short stories, I still felt drained towards the end of the month, hehe... Thank you so much for reading, commenting and subscribing! I appreciate each and every single one of you!! You truly were my motivators to get chapters posted daily!


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